Legacy of Lies
by CoronaIgnis
Summary: Danny's father is back, but so is Agent L of the Guys in White. And he might just be onto Danny's secret. Sequel to Kith and Kin.
1. Prologue: Aftershocks

I do not own DP. This disclaimer applies to all chapters in this fanfic, so please don't sue.

On another note, has anyone else noticed how many stories have been abandonded on this site? Yeah, me too. I propose an adopt-a-fic challenge: you go and PM the author of your favorite abandonded story and see if you can continue it. It would be good writing practice and a way to continue some stories that really ought to be continued. Think about it, okay?

Now on with the story!

* * *

><p>Most of the few people who knew about my father's identity weren't quite certain how to react to it.<p>

Dora was still stuck in a state of suspended disbelief. She'd been mad as… well, as a dragon when time started up again and she learned that Pariah had returned- she knew Danni and I were responsible; it was too big a coincidence to think otherwise- and chased us around the castle a few times in her larger form. Fortunately, once we'd told her about Djall and Ammut while holding her captive in a bunch of gooey ropes, she slipped back into shock. She reverted to her normal form and faintly asked for time to think about this and plan her next move. Then, just as we were about to leave, she called us back, apologized for trying to decapitate us, and asked for more detail. Danni and I obliged.

Pandora gave us a long, angry lecture about how stupid we were to have freed Pariah ourselves, but when we asked her what she would have done she grudgingly admitted "Probably the same thing. But that doesn't make it any smarter!" As we had succeeded, though, she was willing to forgive our foolish risks and even asked us to schedule a meeting with our father. It turned out that she'd known him during the Golden Age. They weren't exactly friends, but they'd shared acquaintances and experiences. Besides, as queen of Achaea, she was duty-bound to assure that he wasn't interested in eliminating her people.

I only wish that Frostbite and Pyrrha had reacted so well. They listened to my and Danni's tale with steadily growing horror, not wanting to believe that the Great One and the Keeper of the Infi-Map were children of their worst nightmare. They were silent for a long, long time after we finished. Finally, Pyrrha turned her flame-yellow gaze to us and asked, "Why did you tell us? You could easily have kept silent, and we would never have known otherwise."

I fidgeted. "It didn't seem right. You're getting married soon, and we didn't want to serve in your wedding when you believed a lie about us. Besides, there aren't a lot of people we can trust and who trust us back."

The Queen of Fire nodded. Her husband-to-be clutched at her hand. I flinched away, hating to see them so vulnerable and hurt.

Danni, eyes to the floor, whispered, "If you still want us to serve at your wedding, we'd be honored. But if you don't want Pariah's kids there, we thought you should know sooner rather than later. You know, so you can find someone else."

"Thank you," whispered Frostbite. With a start, I realized he was on the verge of tears. I'd never seen him cry before, and that more than anything made me regret what we had told them. Yes, he knew now that Djall and Pariah were separate beings, that the former had used the latter's power to wreak havoc, but the name of Pariah Dark had a lot of power over them both. They'd been born at the end of the Golden Age, had come of age in the War of Power. They'd spent their afterlives hearing about how awful the ghost king was, and that couldn't be sloughed off in one day.

If this was how the rest of the Ghost Zone would react, maybe we shouldn't have released him at all.

I forced the thought away. No, despite the consequences, we had done the right thing to free him from Djall's power. Perhaps our actions wouldn't bring back the Golden Age, but no matter what else happened, we'd still freed an innocent man from the worst slavery imaginable.

"Thank you," the King of Ice repeated, clutching his fiancée's hand like a lifeline. "But… please go, Great One, Keeper. We do not despise you- never think that!- but you have given us much to ponder. We need time."

"Right," Danni whispered. Crystal tears glittered in the corners of her eyes. She loved Frostbite and Pyrrha even more than I did. Until very recently, they had been the closest thing to parents she'd ever known. "Bye, then." She bowed from the waist, began backing out of the chamber. I followed suit.

"We will summon you," Pyrrha promised. "As soon as the shock has worn off, we will call you back to us. We just need time."

Needless to say, we were fairly miserable as we flew away from the border between Far Frozen and the Burning Lands. We'd expected a lot worse, but it still hurt. Frostbite and Pyrrha were like a favorite aunt and uncle. We'd introduced them by locking them into a closet together; they'd come out with hearts full of love and an engagement contract. We would have been best man and maid of honor at their wedding, godparents to their firstborn child.

At least the other people we told took the news a lot better. Wulf, who was running wild in the backwoods of Arkansas, wasn't surprised that we weren't Jack and Maddie's children. Apparently, we hadn't smelled a thing like them or Jazz. He was stunned to hear our father's name, especially since he, too, could connect the dots and reason out who had freed him, but he trusted us enough to know we had a good reason for it. When we were finished with the long, convoluted tale, he nodded solemnly and congratulated us- _congratulated us_!- on saving him.

Then he fainted, and we spent the next three hours trying to wake him up.

Clockwork had known for years that Danni and I were Pariah's children. He'd had decades to adjust to the idea, and he'd been there every step of the way as we hunted for our biological parents. He seemed to approve of the path events had taken, but that might have just been because the Observants were reacting like a flock of chickens with their heads cut off.

I didn't blame them.

They had _known_ about the soul merge with Djall, yet they had done nothing to help their liege lord escape the other spirit's influence. Instead, they'd let the twisted soul merge lay waste to their kingdom, betraying both their king and the citizens who had looked to them for protection. Then they'd taken Pariah's power for themselves, reducing the War of Power from a desperate struggle for survival to an elaborate coup.

And not once in the three thousand years since the last battle had they shown any regret.

I had no sympathy for the High Observant Council. It was one thing to imprison someone due to ignorance, as I had done three years ago. It was another thing entirely to knowingly, deliberately, _gladly_ let an innocent rot just for political gain.

They were paying for it, though. Soon the entire Ghost Zone would know what they'd done.

And that was the problem.

They needed an explanation about why all this had come to light, and they wanted to tell the plain, unvarnished truth. It was a measure of revenge on their part, I think, threatening to expose Danni and me as the ones who had re-released Pariah Dark. If they weren't so afraid of our father, they would twist the story, make it seem like we were foolish children who had risked everything for the love a madman- but fortunately for us, they were convinced that Pariah was looking for any excuse to annihilate them and didn't dare put one toe out of line.

Danni and I didn't know if we wanted that part of the truth to come out. Adding "Dark" to our surnames would (aside from completely destroying the alliteration of Fenton-Phantom) trap us in a minefield of politics, scheming, and attacks from those who hated Pariah- in other words, most of the Ghost Zone. It was, to put it lightly, a pretty big decision to make. We still had almost a year to think it over, though, and I was confident that we could figure things out before then.

At least things were less crazy in the Human Realm. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz hadn't studied the War of Power like I had, so they were less likely to compare the soul merge version of Pariah to Adolf Hitler. Sam was mainly grumpy about how proud her parents would be if they ever realized she was dating royalty. Jazz was trying to make us agree to family therapy sessions. "Personal shrink to the Ghost Zone's royal family" is apparently an excellent resume builder. Tucker had taken to greeting me with a sweeping bow and joking about how I really should make him a Ghost Lord.

I told him that's his next Christmas present.

And of course, Jack and Maddie are clueless as ever. They rarely noticed anything that didn't involve highly public, highly publicized ghost attacks, and those had been lacking lately. The spirits who usually attacked Amity Park had cleared out within hours of Pariah's reawakening. Unable to find me, the one who had defeated Pariah before, they spent the first night hiding in Sam's basement, jumping at every noise and shadow. Now they were in a mountain mansion in Colorado.

Hey, what Vlad doesn't know can't hurt him.

But back to Jack and Maddie. They have no idea about… pretty much everything. They _have _noticed that practically no ghosts have showed up recently, but they've deluded themselves into thinking that everyone was too scared of them to attack. Why ghosts would choose _now_ to "flee in terror from the mighty Fentons!" as opposed to, say, two years ago next Tuesday, I have no idea. They probably don't know either.

Their cluelessness is what has kept me half-alive for so long. Had they made the connection between "Hey, we created a half-ghost experiment thingy named Danny" and "Hey, there's a ghost kid named Danny who looks an awful lot like our son," I would have been splayed out on their dissection table a long time ago.

Their cluelessness has been a constant in my half-life, one of the only constants. Ghosts could attack at any given moment, humans could show up at the worst possible times, but Jack and Maddie Fenton would always remain blissfully oblivious, engrossed in their own little world.

But now, for the first time, they might be getting a clue.


	2. Old Friend, Old Enemy

Amity Park's airport is named after me, much to my false parents' eternal chagrin. I don't know how many times they've sued the management for using that name, but the answer they get is the same every time: "This is a new facility designed to transport ghost-viewing tourists and Phantom Phans. The name attracts publicity and creates business. We refuse to surrender these benefits just because a pair of narrow-minded imbeciles refuse to acknowledge that Danny Phantom is a hero, pure and simple."

I love those airport guys.

To my knowledge, Jack and Maddie have never set foot in Phantom International Airport. They've stood around outside the main building with picket signs and a few other protestors, mostly Guys in White, but never deigned to actually enter the premises.

So when they drove me to the building in question without any explanation, I naturally assumed they'd been invited to another protest. "Count me out," I grumbled at them, arms folded as I leaned into the backseat. "I have a test tomorrow. Besides, it's cold out. I don't want to sit around with a bunch of government cronies. I'll just stay in the car and study."

"We're not here to protest," Maddie corrected me. I blinked. That was a first. "We're here to pick someone up."

"Is Aunt Alicia coming to town or something?" I asked. I doubted it. Maddie's sister was perfectly content in her cabin in Arkansas. Besides, she loathed Jack almost as much as Vlad did. She'd rather eat mildew than spend extra time with him.

"No," my erstwhile mother replied. "It's an old friend of yours, someone we haven't seen since you were a baby."

Alarm bells went off in my head. I hadn't legally existed until three months after my 'birth,' when my human DNA had cloaked all my ghostly genes and effectively rendered me fully human for the next thirteen years. If this guy commented on how I was too old to be biologically theirs, it would open a whole lot of doors that should stay shut. I'd _have_ to ask about it, and that would further remind Jack and Maddie that I'd been born half-ghost, the last thing I wanted them thinking about.

No, no, quit being ridiculous. He could have showed up when I was three months old, half a year, right before toddlerhood. He wasn't necessarily involved in Project A.N.I.E.L., he could easily be someone they'd met right after moving to Amity Park. Calm down, Fenton-Phantom. You'll be fine.

"He used to come and see you all the time," Maddie reminisced. "He was… very interested in your progress."

The bells in my head had upgraded from 'fire alarm' to 'ghost apocalypse/we're all gonna DIE!' This person had been _interested in my progress?_ That had to be code for interest in Project Artificial Natal Infant Ectoplasmic Life-form… which meant this person knew exactly what I was.

Admittedly, there was a slight chance that I was just being paranoid, but you're not paranoid when they're really after you.

I tried to reassure myself- maybe this ghost hunter (because it had to be a ghost hunter; they hadn't told anyone outside the Guys in White about my existence until the government washed its hands of me) was here to hunt ghosts- but it was futile. They hadn't called him a 'ghost hunter,' they'd called him an old friend who knew about my so-called birth. And if he was here to hunt ghosts, why wasn't he staying in the GiW base?

My stomach curdled. Did this mean they knew about Phantom? I didn't _think_ so- but then, I hadn't thought I was an experiment, either. They were much better actors than I'd given them credit for.

If they so much as twitched wrong, I'd run. I'd sprint into the nearest hidden place, slam the door behind me, and fly off to the new Sanctuary in Colorado. They couldn't find me there; no one knew it existed except for ghosts, halfas, and three humans who would sooner die than betray me.

But for now, into the mouth of the beast. If I panicked prematurely, I'd blow my cover to smithereens. I liked this half-life. Besides, Jazz would kill me if I didn't graduate high school. I wanted to stay, at least until graduation. Then it was off to… somewhere.

"So… why are _we_ meeting this guy? Isn't it kind of weird to pick up someone you haven't seen in sixteen or seventeen years?" My voice was light, casual- exactly the opposite of how I felt.

"That doesn't matter," Jack assured me. "You can pick up friendship years after the fact. Look at me and Vladdy!"

Yes, because wanting to kill you, marry your wife, and brainwash your foster son was real friendly.

"I'm looking, I'm looking."

He beamed, thinking he'd made his point.

"But why am I here?" I'd shifted to whiny-teenager mode, a defense mechanism against the inevitable.

"He wanted to check up on you." Maddie returned her attention to the signs. "The waiting area is that way. Come on, everyone, we don't want to be late."

He wanted to check up on me? He wanted to _check up _on me? I was doomed. Would I have to go ghost in front of all these people, or could I escape inconspicuously?

Every instinct screamed _TRAP!_ but I stayed with my false parents, senses on overdrive, noting posture and tone and word choice. My eyes darted around, searching for escape routes before fixing on them once again. It didn't look like they had any weapons on them, but they have mastered the art of cramming deadly guns into impossibly tiny spaces.

I refused to sit down after we reached the waiting area. Jack and Maddie gave me weird looks at that, wondering why I wasn't studying, but I was past caring. Even if they didn't know I was Phantom- and maybe they didn't; they hadn't really acted any differently towards me lately- it was better to be safe and in one piece than sorry and dissected.

Pace, pace, pace, eight steps forward and eight steps back. Quite a few people glared at me, which was dumb. What did it matter if I paced or sat, so long as I stayed out of their way? Besides, it would be a lot easier to run if I was already moving.

The seconds ticked by. Had Clockwork stretched out time again? No, he was too busy to indulge in stupid little pranks. Pariah's return had quintupled his workload.

Then my ghost sense went off. My body froze mid-step. Only my eyes moved, glancing towards Jack and Maddie. Had they noticed? And if they had seen the fog billowing from my mouth, did they know what it meant?

No. Jack was knitting…something, and Maddie was reading a magazine on (what else?) ghost hunting. "Bathroom," I told them, and jogged away. They barely nodded in acknowledgement. Everyone around me was far too used to my randomly spaced "bathroom breaks."

The first thing I did after going ghost was duplicate. The double shifted back to Fenton form and gave the real me a salute. If the ghost hunter on the plane did know what I was, he wouldn't be able to catch me. That duplicate would fall apart at a moment's notice, giving the real me a long head start.

My ghost self flew through the roof, invisible to humans but not to ghosts. A lot of refugees had been coming through Amity Park lately. If this was one of them, I didn't want to fly in with guns blazing.

It was.

Three women, four men, six children, and a green goldfish hovered above the Phantom International Airport, looking at a map and arguing about "should have asked directions." The kids tugged at their parents' legs, whining that they were _tired_, they wanted to go _home_, and why weren't they there yet?

I coughed. They didn't notice, too wrapped up in their arguments to hear anything, so I floated over and tapped the map-holder's shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Can I help you?"

Map-man blinked nervously. One of the women shoved him aside. "We'd like to ask for directions," she declared.

"Actually-" began map-man.

The woman swiveled her head like an angry owl. "We're asking for directions," she growled.

Map-man wisely chose not to protest.

"We're from Li-en," she explained, naming an Oriental province next to Pandora's kingdom. "Ever since Pariah Dark escaped again, we're too afraid to stay in the Ghost Zone. We heard that there's a refuge for people like us in the mortal world, but since these meatheads _didn't ask for directions_ we have no idea where it is."

"Daddy's not a meathead," muttered one of the kids.

I interrupted their brewing argument before they could come to blows. "I was just heading to Sanctuary myself."

"I don't wanna go," whined another kid. "I'm tired. I can't fly anymore. Can't we just stay here?"

"We're all tired," snapped a slightly older child, "but the rest of us aren't complaining about it!"

"Just cause you're so big and tough-"

"Hey!" I barked. Miracle of miracles, they stopped screaming and turned to me. "If you don't want to fly there, I can give you a ride in the Fenton thermos." I waved the green-and-gray device for emphasis.

They did not look convinced, save for Whiny Kid #2. "Please, please, please? I'm tired. I won't even complain any more if we go in that thing."

"It looks cramped," observed yet another kid.

"It's not so bad," I assured them.

The oldest woman announced, "I think that the grown-ups should discuss this. Children, stay here. Be nice to Phantom-san." She and the other adults floated off.

Naturally, the kids didn't obey. I was a celebrity in the Ghost Zone as well as on Earth, and Pariah's recent escape had reminded everyone that I had defeated him in single combat three years ago. The children wanted to hear all about our desperate, terrifying battle.

The adults returned just when I'd flown the Fenton Battle Suit into Pariah's Keep, but they didn't interrupt. They listened, too, faces brightening with renewed hope. I wondered how they would react if they'd known my lineage- and what I'd done two weeks ago. They certainly wouldn't be looking at me with those frightened, hopeful eyes, confident in their safety.

When the story was complete, I turned to the adults. "What'll it be?"

Map-man gave me a warm smile. "We've decided to accept your generous offer, Phantom-san. Thank you."

"No problem," I assured them. "Now get into a line, okay? And don't be scared when the thermos starts sucking you up. It looks kind of scary, but it won't hurt at all."

"Of course, Phantom-san." Map-man bowed slightly.

I uncapped the thermos and sucked them in, then turned and flew. It would take less than an hour to get to the Sanctuary. Had they not wanted to ride in the thermos, it might have taken days. Kids couldn't fly very fast, only twenty miles per hour or so.

As I flew, I turned most of my attention to the Fenton duplicate, which had been studying for Lancer's English lit class. We were just finishing up on _Le Morte d'Arthur_, and the test would determine a big chunk of our final grade. Unless I wanted to fail English 12, I kind of had to pass it.

As the duplicate turned a page, a tired-sounding airport employee announced that passengers from Flight 2881 were almost ready to disembark. My foster-parents perked to attention. "He'll be here soon," Jack told me. "He's on First Class."

Glad to know that the government pays its useless ghost hunters so well. "Good for him," the duplicate mumbled. He/I stood, leg muscles tense, ready to run or vanish at a moment's notice.

We waited, knowing it wouldn't be long now. Soon people were pouring through the terminal. My eyes strained, searching for a flash of white.

And there it was.

The man in white was tall and bulky, muscles straining against his uniform. His hair, gray with strands of brown, was trimmed close to his skin, revealing every line of the shape of his skull. His nose was large and blunt and off-center, as though he'd broken it once and hadn't gotten it fixed properly. His mouth was twisted into an angry scowl. Something in the way he moved made my hackles rise. This wasn't your standard incompetent Whitecoat; this was a fighter, a killer, a threat.

He saw Jack and Maddie before they saw him. No wonder; that glaring orange jumpsuit was visible from space. His scowl deepened. Then his gaze shifted to me, and his expression changed again.

Disgust. Hate. Loathing. Repugnance. He knew what I was, perhaps even who I was, and he despised me with every fiber of his being. I flinched away, like a normal teen would, but kept him in my peripheral vision.

Never turn your back to an enemy. Never let an enemy out of your sight.

He prowled through the crowds. Civilians parted for him as though he were an evil Moses. I didn't blame them, not with this predator so close.

He gave me one last hate-filled glare before twisting his face into something marginally more pleasant. "Jack. Maddie. It's been a while." He did not extend his hand.

"It has!" exclaimed my brainless foster-father, grinning ear to ear. "We'll have a blast catching up!"

"And you must be… _Daniel._" The last word was a hiss. Two hundred miles away, the Phantom duplicate picked up speed.

"Danny, please." I kept my voice light, pleasant. I was a teenager, bored by this old friend of my boring parents. I was a regular kid, with no reason to fear him. "What's your name, sir?"

He bared his teeth. "Just call me Agent L."

* * *

><p>Yes, this dude is evil. And I mean EVIL.<p>

Li-en is just something I made up. It will have no bearing on lthe plot. Just be aware that it exists.

Also, does anyone remember my adopt-a-fic challenge? Come on, guys. You know you want to...

-Corona


	3. Hostile Houseguest

It took all my self-control to not vaporize the duplicate then and there. Agent L… just like I'd thought. But he was nothing like I'd expected.

He should have been a standard Guy in White: incompetent, foolish, more concerned about the state of his uniform than saving lives or protecting people. Nothing in Jack and Maddie's notes had indicated he was anything else. They'd never written of this man's menace, his strength, his deadliness….

But I shouldn't be surprised. People could change a lot in seventeen years, and even if he _had_ been this terrifying back then, they probably wouldn't have noticed. Sad, yes, but they really are that clueless.

I remained on full alert as we retrieved his luggage (guess who got to carry it?), muscles tense and ready, yet nothing happened. No one whipped out an enormous ecto-gun and began shooting at me. No cages fell from the ceiling to capture me. No Jack-o-nine-tails, no thermos, no Fenton peeler. Nothing.

It should have made me feel better, safer, but I didn't. Not with Agent L in the car.

At least he wasn't sitting next to me. Jack had suggested it, and the official had replied with a look so full of disgust that not even he could miss it. The hunter blinked once, then suggested, "Or maybe Maddie and Danny could sit in the back."

Needless to say, everyone was grateful for that.

The car ride home was tense but uneventful. Agent L radiated enough hatred to melt the polar ice caps. Maddie mostly stared at the back of his head, occasionally glancing back at me. Jack drove even faster and more recklessly than usual, eager to escape the bad atmosphere in the GAV. I kept up my mindless teenager act on the outside but remained ready to dissolve the duplicate if anything else went wrong.

But despite an enemy taking up residence in my house, the remainder of the afternoon was boring. Even creepy government officials need time to unpack and get settled in. Besides, I doubt that he wanted to discuss his real reason for being here when I was still in the house.

That was fine, though. I could wait. I just had to survive supper first.

* * *

><p>Sanctuary was packed like a can of sardines. Ghosts had, out of sheer necessity, crammed themselves four or five to a room. And considering how big Vlad's mansion was, that was saying something.<p>

Maybe, if the ghosts had spent more time outside, it wouldn't have seemed quite so crowded, but they were all too afraid of my father to venture into the isolated Rocky Mountains. They seemed to think that he would step out of the trees, rocks, or streams and rip their faces off. No matter how many times I told them that they were going to be _fine,_ that there was no way Pariah could find them here, they refused to listen.

There was, of course, one way of getting them to go outside and enjoy nature, and that was announcing my lineage over the intercom. However, as I had no desire to be stampeded, that wasn't going to happen.

I dropped the Li-enese refugees off with the housing manager, a nice older lady named Nora. She clicked her tongue at seeing how many there were. I shrugged helplessly. "I really am looking for another place for everyone else."

"I know that, Danny," she sighed, "but I doubt anyone would leave even if you did. They're too afraid to move."

It was just fan-flipping-tastic that my biological father could inspire such terror in his subjects. Admittedly, it wasn't his fault- we could blame Djall for that- but it was still pretty depressing. It was one of the reasons I hadn't told the public about my odd birth.

Frostbite and Pyrrha's sad, confused faces flashed in my mind, and I flinched.

Nora mistook the cause of my unhappiness and patted me on my arm. "Don't worry, Danny. You're doing the best you can. We couldn't ask you to disobey the Master of All Time."

The comment about Clockwork referred back to two weeks ago, right after I'd brought the first wave of refugees to Sanctuary. The ghosts had cornered me and demanded that I fight Pariah and lock him into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep like I had last time. It had been quite a dilemma: if I said no, they would get suspicious. If I said yes, they'd probably make me promise to do my best. Since I always keep my promises, things probably would have gotten ugly.

I'd been about to try a delaying tactic- tell them I wanted to get more information, figure out how this happened and how it can be prevented, maybe find a new place to stash the Sarcophagus because the Keep obviously wasn't safe anymore- when one of Clockwork's portals had opened in the middle of the room.

The ghosts of the Barrens are a disrespectful group: anarchic, willful, stubborn, usually at least half insane. But despite their habitual orneriness, they practically groveled at the foot of Clockwork's tail. They had thought that he was there to talk sense into me, to make me fight Pariah Dark and save their ungrateful butts- again.

He ignored them, turned towards me. His face was even blanker than usual, a stone mask of indifference. "Daniel," he proclaimed, and though he was in child form, the Barrens ghosts grew silent to let him speak. "The time is not right for you to attack Pariah. He is to remain unharmed." His red gaze swept over everyone else. "This applies for all of you, as well."

They nodded like bobble heads. I gave a tiny bow of gratitude. "As you command, my Lord Master of All Time."

Clockwork smiled and, in his best know-it-all voice, proclaimed, "Silver tarnishes, but gold does not. Our world has known only the first, never the last. Yet now we are being gilt layer by layer. Will this truly be an Age of Gold?" His words echoing around the stunned room, he waved his staff and vanished.

Later that day, I'd gone to thank him for saving me (and ask what he'd been talking about). He had nodded vaguely, not really paying attention. He'd been too busy looking at the time streams, trying to map the most efficient and least painful way to reintegrate my father into society. His work had been important: stopping rebellions, saving Pariah's image and reputation, forming alliances. There was nothing I could do to help- I'd asked- so I left, not wanting to distract him any further.

That had been the last time I'd seen him. Even now, two weeks after the fact, Clockwork was busy working damage control.

"You can ask," I told Nora, "just don't expect me to listen."

Her answering smile was wan and tired.

Whiny Kid #3 tugged at the matron's skirt. "Can we have a room now?"

Nora heaved a sigh, no doubt thinking of the people she'd have to move to make these newcomers fit. I flinched, thinking of Vlad's manor in Wisconsin. It would have been another perfect refuge, provided that none of these ghosts were Vikings fans, but I'd destroyed it years ago.

Quite a few ghosts approached me on my way out. Many of them had questions- did Clockwork rescind his ban on attacking the king, how long are you staying, can you help settle a dispute between my roommates and me- but most of them just stood or floated by the walls, watching me pass. As the only individual in history who had defeated Pariah Dark, I had become a mascot to them, a symbol of hope and protection.

I lingered there for another hour, settling disputes as well as I could. It was hard- not the settling part, that was pretty easy, but the guilt. I'd caused all this. Sure, my intentions had been pure, and things would hopefully get better within the next few months but…. I focus on the present, not the future.

And the present, for both Fenton and Phantom, reeked.

* * *

><p>Back at FentonWorks, suppertime had arrived. Maddie had gone all-out in a vain attempt to impress her guest: roast beef in the most delicious gravy imaginable, mashed potatoes, split peas, an expensive-looking red wine (and pop for me). She'd even gotten out the green-and-white ghost-patterned chinaware and genuine silver utensils (also designed to look like ghosts. No, I don't know where they got these).<p>

It looked and smelled delicious… but L and I weren't eating it.

The agent had made some snarky comment about losing his appetite. He'd glared at me as though it were my fault. I didn't eat because I was worried about ectoranium or blood blossom poisoning and told them that I'd had a big lunch.

As Jack and Maddie picked halfheartedly at their meal, trying in vain to make small talk, L and I watched each other like rival cats.

What would Fenton, a totally normal teenager with nothing to hide, do about this? Fenton had noticed the official's disdain- how could he not?- and he would have to respond somehow. The question was, How could I get out of this without raising even more suspicion?

The answer: play clueless and curious.

"Okay," I gulped, melting tiny ice crystals on my forehead into droplets of sweat, "why do you hate me?" I brushed the melted water out of my face, fixing my expression into my best frightened puppy impersonation.

L grunted, not wanting to speak to the freak.

"No, seriously, why do you hate me? I haven't even done anything to you!"

For the first time, Agent L picked up his knife and fork. Squeezing their ghost-shaped handles so tightly that his knuckles went white, he viciously stabbed the beef. He sliced through it with _way_ too much malevolent enthusiasm. Then, lips curled in a sadistic smile, he brought the meat to his mouth and chewed.

Message received. I shut up.

"Danny's really a good kid." Maddie's voice was higher than normal. She swirled gravy into her potatoes, not wanting to eat until her speech was over. "He's got a very good friend, Tucker Foley, and a girlfriend, Sam Manson."

It was the wrong thing to say. L turned to her with an expression like a tornado and hissed, "Girlfriend?"

Maddie stopped swirling. "Er, yes. Sam Manson. She's a nice girl, very intelligent, very fiery. They're good for each other."

He snorted, and we regressed to our previous state of tense silence. The only difference was that L had apparently decided to eat Maddie's carefully prepared meal. I was the only one not eating at that table.

Back at Sanctuary, my Phantom self headed towards the kitchen. Full-ghosts didn't need to eat, but many of them enjoyed cooking or sampling different human world foods. The Lunch Lady had just finished making stuffing and turkey, with an apple pie baking in the oven. Grinning, I grabbed a knife and fork and went to work.

Finally, _finally, _the agonizing meal was over. I dragged dishes to the sink and high-tailed it out of there. "I'm going to Sam's or Tucker's. Bye! Don't expect me back for a long, long time!"

"Have fun!" Maddie called after me. In a softer voice, she added, "Don't worry, sweetie. Agent L will come around."

Her statement reassured me, though not for the reasons she thought. If she was telling me that "Agent L will come around," then she _wanted_ him to come around and was going to actively work on making him come around. _That _in turn implied that she didn't hate me, which meant that she and Jack didn't know I was Phantom, that L wasn't here to destroy me (much as he obviously wanted to), and that I was probably safe in my own house.

But probably wasn't enough to make me stick around. "I guess, M-Mom. See you later." I turned and left. The second the duplicate was out of sight, it faded from visibility, went intangible, and re-entered FentonWorks.

Hundreds of miles away, my Phantom self finished up the Lunch Lady's apple pie and flew away. Sam and Tucker needed to know about this.

* * *

><p>Ah, symbolism. How wonderful it is.<p>

Yes, L really is as evil as he's painted. It's Murphy's Law: the only dangerous GiW is the only one to stay in FentonWorks.

Next chapter: We learn what L is doing in Amity Park and visit Danielle. Until then, ciao!

-Corona


	4. Too Close to the Truth

As expected, my friends were horrified by L's return. Their reactions to the horror, though, were polar opposites.

Tucker thought that I should abandon espionage altogether and flee to the Ghost Zone or Sanctuary. He'd seen the fear in my face, and he reasoned that anything that could scare Danny Phantom should not be trifled with. At the very least, he begged me, take up Pariah's offer of two thrall bodyguards.

Sam believed that I should continue to spy on him. "Know thy enemy," and that. If I left now, they would know that I knew that something was up, and perhaps they'd make the connection between Fenton and Phantom. It was a long shot, certainly, but stranger things had happened. I'm half-living proof of that.

I pointed out to them that we still didn't know why L was here. He hadn't made any moves to destroy me, which he could have done as soon as we were alone in FentonWorks. Then there was Maddie's strange reassurance to consider.

Agent L didn't seem to be here to hunt me. So why had he come to Amity Park?

Our speculations, each wilder than the last, were interrupted by information from the duplicate I'd left at FentonWorks. I stopped in midsentence, closed my eyes to get a better view. "Hey, L's going downstairs."

"Follow him!"

"I'm following, I'm following." I leaned against Tucker's bed, keeping my eyes shut so I could focus on only one set of images. I hadn't needed to do that for two years, but it still made processing the duplicate's sensory input easier.

"Okay, they're going into the kitchen. Jack is asking where I am, and Maddie's giving him my excuse…."

"Good," growled Agent L. He wasted no more time on pleasantries, but cut straight to the point. "You should have destroyed that abomination after it outlived its uselessness."

Sam hissed. "Nice guy."

"Can you hold the comments until after they're done talking?" Tucker snapped.

Sam blushed. "Sorry."

Maddie stiffened. For a moment, it seemed as though she would protest, defend her and her husband's decision to keep me in one piece, but seemed to decide otherwise at the last second. "What's done is done, all right?"

"No, it's not all right! Bad enough that you didn't eliminate the freak; now you want me to _help_ it?"

Wait, what?

"Danny, what did he say?" demanded Tucker, breaking his own rule. I shushed him, listening intently to Jack's response.

"Helping a human," the fat hunter began. "You'll be freeing-"

"And what's to stop this from happening again? The freak is half-ghost. It's written in its very DNA. No matter what you do, or how often you do it, that so-called son of yours will always be less than human. It will always be kin to that hunter ghost, and the one with boxes… and Phantom."

Maddie's face went white.

"Not if you find a way to take the ghost out of him," Jack protested. He, too, looked ready to vomit. "If you can get that ghost blood out of him-"

"Then I'll literally tear the creature's DNA in two." L folded his arms, glowered at the other two hunters. "I wouldn't mind doing that, truth be told, but I doubt that's what you had in mind for your precious baby."

"It's not."

"Then there is no solution. Leopards don't change their spots. Neither do half-ghost freaks. I'm not going to 'take the ghost out of him' because I _can't_ take the ghost out of it. The best thing you can do is destroy it before its behavior gets more ghost-like."

So that was why he'd been called in. Jack and Maddie thought that my strange behavior in the past few years- skipping school, being confrontational and ornery, bad grades, lying, etc.- was a consequence of my ghost DNA. Technically, they were right, but they were right in the wrong way for the wrong reasons.

This was the closest they'd ever gotten to the truth… and they were so wrong that if I hadn't been in danger, I'd have laughed my butt off.

"We can't kill a human," Maddie explained. Her teeth ground together, audible to my hybrid ears but not to anyone else. "It's against everything we stand for as ghost hunters."

"It's not a human. It looks human. Maybe it even acts human." His lips curled maliciously. "But it doesn't, does it. Disappearing all the time, mental retardation, lack of social skills… and I bet there's more that you haven't told me about. It's not human. It's a ghost, and it will always be a ghost. The best thing you can do is destroy it, or, failing that, hold it captive for study."

"Danny is human," Maddie asserted, but her voice wavered.

It seemed as though they were about to descend into an "is to/ is not" argument, but Jack intervened. "There's one way to prove it," he said. "The only way to see if Danny's a ghost or not is to look at his DNA."

L leaned forward. "And do you have a sample?"

"Um, no." The hunter blushed. "But I can get one!"

"Your blood's red in human form," Tucker muttered. "I'll hack into their database and change it so your DNA looks all human."

I grinned at him. "Thanks, Tuck. You're the best."

He grinned back. "I know I am."

Sam rolled her eyes. "What are they saying now, Danny?"

"Nothing, really. It looks like L is thinking over the idea. Oh, wait, now he's nodding."

"Get me a sample of the freak's blood," the agent ordered. "I'd bet my career that the ghostliness has already overwhelmed any last vestiges of humanity."

"Okay," mumbled Jack. "But what will you do then?"

L shrugged. "Something. You should have drawn the blood before I arrived."

"But what are we supposed to tell Danny?" Maddie interjected.

"I don't care," the agent growled. "Doctor lab work, a DNA lock for your little portal, whatever. I would just tie it down somewhere and extract the blood by force, but you're too attached to do that." He pushed himself back with such force that his chair fell over. Not bothering to pick it up, he returned to his lair in the guest bedroom.

"Okay," I announced, opening my eyes, "they're done now. What do you guys think?"

"I think," snarled Sam, eyes blazing, "that he's the only person on Earth or in the Ghost Zone I hate more than Paullina!" She punched the air, doubtless imagining the agent's face in the path of her fist.

"Much as I appreciate the sentiment, that's not what I was asking."

"It… doesn't sound like you're in any immediate danger," she admitted. "But that doesn't mean you should stay. But if you do stay, and if you manage to convince him nothing's ghostly about you… then you'll be safe. The Guys in White will never realize you're Danny Phantom, because one of their own has already investigated you."

"But is it worth the risk?" demanded Tucker.

I thought of Agent L's predatory eyes. "I… don't know. I need… can you guys call Jazz? I'm going to visit Danni and… Pariah."

Yes, I referred to him by his first name. After seventeen years of not really knowing each other and two battles that had nearly gotten me killed, it was way too awkward to call him Father or Dad or Pops.

"We'll talk to Jazz," my girlfriend promised, reaching for her phone.

"Say hi to the other Danni. And your dad, too, I guess."

Yes! My matchmaking was working! Now all I had to do was find a suitable boyfriend for Jazz, and I'd be all set. "Will do, Tuck."

He gave me a really weird look. "Okay then. Sam, is Jazz picking up?"

I transported to the grounds of Pariah's Keep. Not for the first time, I noted how much healthier and complete the environment looked: more land, vegetation peeking out from hard-packed soil. The regeneration was kind of freaky- I mean, where was it all _coming_ from?- but it was definitely a good thing.

At least, it was a good thing as long as I didn't touch it. Eight days ago, I'd taken off my gloves to feel the soft new earth. The second my hand touched the ground, it started sucking all the energy from my body.

Fortunately, I managed to disconnect with it before it drained me entirely, but the experience left me pretty freaked out- especially since the ground around me had grown thicker, greener, healthier, in the few seconds I'd touched it.

Sam had this theory about "the king is one with the land," like in the Arthurian myths we'd been studying in English. She thinks that since Pariah is healthy (or at least sane) again, the Ghost Zone is restoring itself. I don't know what to think, but I haven't broached the subject with Pariah yet. He doesn't need more weirdness- though come to think of it, if his sanity _is_ healing the Ghost Zone, he might want to know about that. But then he'll remember why it needs healing in the first place and get depressed again. One step forward, one step back.

I stayed in midair as I approached the palace. It, too, had changed. The stones had grown less red and angry, paling into white and gray with golden roofs. More windows had appeared. The gardens, formerly dead and gray, had bloomed with life and expanded. Even a few fountains had sprung into being. Aside from the fairy-tale silhouette, this Keep bore no resemblance to the fortress I'd attacked three years ago.

The castle's interior was transformed, too. It was brighter from all the windows. The creepy paintings of random old men in white wigs had vanished. Portraits of royal ghosts hung in their place. So far, I'd found pictures of Frostbite, Pyrrha, Danni, and myself. Pandora and Dora are around here somewhere, but no one knows where.

Two thralls were waiting when I entered the building. They looked at me with their eyeless faces. Somehow, despite being nothing more than mute skulls, they managed to convey the idea of 'do you need or want any assistance'?

"Which way is the princess?" I asked them. As one, the thralls pointed to the left. "Okay, thanks."

Danielle was in her room, the first and only place that was truly hers. She'd decorated it with souvenirs from her adventures around the world: Noh masks from Japan, boomerangs from Australia, porcelain from China, a stuffed white buffalo from North Dakota… things like that. She was in ghost form, hair done up in some ridiculously complex braid, sprawled out on her bed, reading.

I coughed. "Hey, Danni."

She looked up. Her face split into a smile. "Danny! Changed your mind yet?"

My sister thinks that I should move out of FentonWorks and live in Pariah's Keep with her and our father. I understood why- this place had every entertainment known to man; it was filled with family; it was her first real home; and there weren't any psychotic ghost hunters taking up space. Maybe, if Agent L managed to drive me out of Amity Park, I'd take her up on her offer and crash here. There was an empty room next to hers that I could take over and make my own.

"Sorry, Danni," I replied. "Not yet."

Her face lit up with hope. "So I'm wearing you down, huh?" She could barely contain her excitement. This palace represented everything she'd ever wanted and more: security, stability, family, wealth, luxury. My friends and I were the only things missing from her dream come true.

"Not exactly. The crazy Whitecoat who knows about Project A.N.I.E.L. and my imminent doom at his hands is what's wearing me down."

Danni was not impressed. "A Whitecoat is scaring you away from FentonWorks? Wow, Danny. That's really sad."

I shuddered. "Trust me. Agent L is _not_ your standard Guy in White."

Her eyes widened. "Agent L? You mean the guy who is pretty much responsible for kicking off the project and who wanted to eliminate you when it outgrew its usefulness?"

"The one and only."

She considered for a moment before pointing out, "But he's still a Whitecoat."

"Weren't you listening? He's _different,_ Danni. He's like a shark or a T. rex. I'll bet anything that he's the best of the Guys in White. That's not really saying much, I know, but he's a threat. He's probably as dangerous as Vlad."

Her lips tightened. "I think you're exaggerating."

"Why would I exaggerate? Come on. When's the last time I overestimated an enemy's fighting power?"

"Never," she admitted. "But you've underestimated a whole lot of them, and you get really paranoid about your secret."

Of course she wouldn't listen to reason. If she listened to reason (namely me) and acknowledged Agent L as a threat, she would be jolted out of her happy little paradise. "Just let me tell you about him, okay? You'll see." I hoped.

I spent the next few minutes relating pretty much everything that had happened that day: the airport, the Li-enese refugees, the conversation my duplicate had overheard. I emphasized that Sam and Tucker ("He says hi, by the way") were worried about him too. They'd never really been paranoid about my secret before, so why should they start now?

But my stubborn fool of a sister refused to admit that L was a threat. She didn't _want_ to.

I gave up. If she was too stubborn to acknowledge that I was in danger, there was nothing anyone could do to convince her otherwise. She's stubborn like that. "Look, whether or not he's as dangerous as I think, there's still the little matter of him knowing what I am. He's here to tear my DNA in half. You can't say that's not dangerous."

She grimaced but was forced to admit I had a point. "You could come here."

"I know, I know."

Danni scowled. "I'm not just saying that because I want you here. I do, but that doesn't mean I don't have the right idea. If you moved here, it would solve all our problems."

"But then I wouldn't graduate, and I'd be further from Amity Park-"

"-which isn't exactly in danger at the moment-"

"-Sam and Tucker and Jazz-"

"-it's not like they're _that_ far away-"

"-and someone needs to keep an eye on Vlad."

"You could do that from here."

"Yeah, but there's still the issue of me graduating."

"Correspondence courses? Or maybe you could keep going to Casper. They don't need to know if you've run away."

She sounded so wistful that I almost gave in. But no.

"I'm staying, Danni. If I get through this without L suspecting me, the Guys in White will never bother Fenton again."

"That's stupid," she snapped. "You have no idea if you'll succeed or not. Stay here, Danny."

"No," I sighed, "I won't. Now come on. Let's see if Pariah has any suggestions."

* * *

><p>Why is Danni being stubborn? Because if she had no flaws, she'd be a Sue. I don't want her to be a Sue. Plus Danny explained her other motivations- having everything she ever wanted, basically living in paradise. If you lived in paradise, you wouldn't want disturbances, either. Of course, Danny's being stubborn too, so he's not entirely blameless.<p>

Does the 'one with the land' thing make sense? It does to me, but I have a background in folklore and mythology. Suffice to say that everyone in the Ghost Zone is really confused as to why land is literally appearing out of thin air.

Next chapter: we finally see Pariah.


	5. Problems Shared

I've never had any trouble locating Pariah Dark. Whether that's because of our family tie, the fact that we were once in the same soul merge, because he's the king of all ghosts, or just because he's so dang powerful, I have no idea.

Maybe it's just because he's always in the same place- a relatively tiny room that had been largely ignored by Djall and was therefore uncontaminated by ugly memories.

We didn't bother knocking. He never hears us when he's in that room, too lost in his thoughts to use any of his senses.

"Sir?"

Neither Danni nor I called him Pariah to his face. Jazz had explicitly forbidden us to do that, saying that if we wanted to foster familial ties, we had to make an effort at acknowledging his status as patriarch. On the other hand, it was just too weird to call him Father or Dad. Eventually we'd settled on sir: properly respectful and not at all awkward. Well, maybe a little awkward, but still less uncomfortable than any of the other titles.

He started. "Daniel. Danielle. Come in."

We obeyed.

The three of us sat there in silence for almost a minute before Danni announced, "Danny has something to tell you."

He turned to me, eyebrow arched in curiosity.

I coughed. "Um, yeah. You remember the ghost hunter who gave your blood to my foster parents and helped them make me and Danni, right?"

Pariah nodded.

"He came to Amity Park today…."

I left out the bits about Sanctuary- news of a refugee camp hiding from him in the backwoods of Colorado would only depress him- and repeated what had happened that day. I emphasized L's aura of hate and danger, how his eyes reminded me of a shark.

By the time my story was over, Pariah's remaining eye had grown sharp and focused. "An enemy is residing in your home?"

"Yep."

He grimaced. "First off, congratulations on your introduction to the world of politics."

He made a joke. He made a joke! I could count the jokes I'd heard him make on the fingers of one hand. Joking meant he was getting better, right?

"You should not remain there." Pariah leaned back in his chair, brow furrowed in thought. "I don't pretend to understand why you have remained there so long, but if this agent is as dangerous as you say, you should leave before it's too late."

"But graduation…." I trailed off. He'd grown up before the era of formal education. Diplomas meant nothing to him. Time to switch strategies to something he could understand. "What about Amity Park? If I leave, who will protect them? And don't say thralls. I really don't want to know how everyone will react to skeletons patrolling the streets." Not to mention what the ghosts would say.

"I'm telling you, you should just commute," Danni grumbled. "Stay here, go through the portal for school, hang out with Sam and Tucker, and come back. Problem solved."

"It's not that simple, Danni."

"Why not?" she snapped. "Seems simple enough to me."

The real answer was because I'm stubborn. None of my enemies had ever made me flee- not Pariah, not Nocturne, not Dan himself. I've had to retreat on occasion, like in Undergrowth's invasion when my ice powers nearly killed me- but that had always been to regroup, to gather my strength, to plan. To return stronger than ever. The thought of letting an enemy- and a Whitecoat at that- drive me from my own house galled me.

Not to mention that I needed the relative normalcy my life at FentonWorks provided me. No matter what curveballs this messed-up half-life sent at me, I could always return at the end of the day. I could lie down in the same bed in the same room and go through the same routine. Danny Fenton brought stability and sanity. Without that to fall back on, I didn't know if I could handle Phantom's constantly fluxing afterlife.

"Ever heard the saying 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'?"

"Falling back on clichés means that you have no good reason," Danni declared.

"No, it means that I am following the tried and true wisdom of previous generations." Jazz had said something similar once. I can't remember the context, but that phrase has always stuck.

"No, it means you're being stupid, stubborn-"

"-smart, cunning-"

"Children," Pariah interrupted.

"And why shouldn't I stay?" I snapped, ignoring him. "You said I'm just overreacting to L and that he can't possibly be that bad. If he's not that bad, why should I leave the house?"

"Why shouldn't you?"

"_Children." _

This time we got the message. We sat back down.

"It is Daniel's decision to stay or go," Pariah reprimanded his daughter.

"But-"

"No buts, Danielle. I understand how dearly you wish him to remain here, but your brother is his own person. If he wishes to dwell in the human realm, neither you nor I shall stop him."

She sank into her chair, cheeks red. To distract herself, she clapped once for a thrall. The skeleton warrior entered. "Refreshments," she ordered curtly.

Pariah waited for his servant to leave before resuming his speech. "This does not mean that we can do nothing. If your desire is for your brother's safety, then keep persuading him. Daniel is sensible; if he knows that your motivations are sound, he will listen to you and think on your words." He glanced at me with a you're-going-to-do-this-whether-you-like-it-or-not expression. I nodded meekly.

"On the other hand, if your goal is to keep him here for selfish reasons… your reasoning might be sound, but he will _know." _

Danni flinched, looking thoroughly miserable. I placed a hand on her shoulder, but she leaned away. "Is it so wrong to want a family?" she hissed.

"Of course not," our father exclaimed. "But I think- and I may be wrong; I have little experience with this- that family is a two-way street."

My sister's entire being deflated. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

My heart went out to her. Poor Danni, so close and yet so far. It didn't mean I approved of her trying to keep me here, but I understood why she was so desperate. In her shoes, I'd do the same thing.

"Hey, I'll probably be here a lot the next couple weeks," I consoled her. "You know, avoiding L and stuff. Plus there won't be a lot of ghost activity, and I don't think there's going to be much homework."

The thrall returned with a platter full of mini sandwiches. Another (I knew it was a different one because it had a dark line in its jawbone) followed with a tray of drinks. They left them on the table and retreated to the corners, awaiting more orders.

Danni fixed her eyes on one of the sandwiches. "So, Danny," she said in a carefully even tone, "what _are_ you going to do?"

"Spend as much time away from L as possible, try not to let him kill me, have Tucker hack into the computer to mess up the blood sample, and hang out here. Basically the stuff I do every day, but with someone new and more time in the castle."

The tiny joke made her lips twitch with amusement. She shifted back to her previous position, her shoulder beneath my hand.

Danni looked towards Pariah, who had been gazing at us fondly. "You're getting good at this parenting thing."

He shrugged, pleasantly embarrassed. "In a way, it's rather like political mediation. I've had a great deal of experience with that." Grief shrouded his eye. "Though it has been a long time since I put the theory into practice."

Would it always be like this? Would all his happy memories be forever tainted, his future dark as his name?

_Family is a two-way street. _

…Curse my hero complex.

"Um, Danni? Could I talk to… to _Father-_" (the word was bulky and unwieldy on my tongue) "-alone for a minute?"

They both stared at me as though I'd duplicated a second head and kept it there. "Okay?" my twin replied. She probably wondered if she was being snubbed. Then she did a mental double-take, noting my usage of the word father. A tiny smile graced her face, and she nodded. "Yeah, okay."

Unfortunately, with Danni gone, there was nothing to stop that awkward word from echoing around the room, bringing up issues we'd all sidestepped.

"You had something to say to me?" Well, at least he was as confused and weirded out as I was. Misery loves company and all that.

"Yeah," I mumbled, not meeting his gaze. "It's just… I don't know where to start." I never did, not even with people I'd known and trusted for years. "Do… have you ever wondered how I met Clockwork?"

He frowned. "I have, yes, but I always assumed it was because of your lineage." Because you're my son.

"No. Well, that's why he was interested in me at first, but that's not how we met. We actually met because of… there was another timeline, a really obscure one that the Observants hunted down. It was awful. Everything on Earth was destroyed. People had died, lots of them. And it was my fault.

"Well, not really. I mean, it _was_, but it wasn't. In that universe, I was in a soul merge. My enemy tore my halves apart. The ghost half- I don't know why- flew into him and made a merge. Then the merge killed my human self and absorbed him, too.

"Things got… really bad then. It was basically a massacre. I think he left the Ghost Zone pretty much alone- well, aside from beating up a few people in the Barrens, crippling, maiming, but no widespread devastation like there was on Earth- but the mortal world was ruined. He destroyed it entirely in just ten years."

I stopped. My feet shuffled of their own accord. "So the Observants found this timeline, which, like I mentioned, was super-obscure, and they told Clockwork to destroy me. To make a long story short, he herded me into the other timeline, where I met my jerky future self. But then Dan- that's what he called himself, Dan Phantom- he knew that since I'd seen him, I wouldn't go into the soul merge like he had, so he went back in time. He tried… he almost killed my foster family, and Sam and Tucker, and my favorite schoolteacher.

"Clockwork saved them and turned back time so it never really happened, but… it was the worst thing I've ever experienced. How much of Dan was Danny? And how much of Dan was in me? I didn't know, and that question… it haunts me still. But I think- he wasn't me. He looked at me and everyone thought he was me, but he wasn't. And meeting him- it was so hard, but I think it was good for me, because-" I barked out a sharp laugh "-well, it's pretty good negative reinforcement, right?

"But my point is that it wasn't my fault, and I really couldn't do anything about it. It took forever for me to accept that, but all I could do about the whole Dan thing was learn from it. Um… that's it, I guess."

The silence resumed. This time, though, it wasn't quite so awkward.

"What happened to this 'Dan'?" asked Pariah.

I blushed. "He spent over three years in a Fenton thermos in Clockwork's tower because he existed outside of time and all that jazz. Whenever Clockwork got really mad at the Observants, he would go over to the thermos and shake it up and down to relieve stress. But Ammut ate him two weeks ago when we were planning how to free you, so it's not like we have to worry about him escaping and wreaking havoc or anything."

The poor king looked totally nonplussed. "Ah. That explains why her stomach hurt so much after eating Djall."

"It does, doesn't it."

Why in the worlds had I brought up Dan? Even now, just thinking about him wracked my heart with guilt and fear. I was nowhere near as serene about it as I'd implied.

But he didn't need to know that. He had enough on his plate already. While Dan had been an awful experience, a nightmare come to life, it was nothing compared to what he'd gone through.

Pariah's shoulders relaxed. Very slowly, giving me plenty of time to back away, he stretched his arm out. I didn't move as a gloved hand settled on my shoulder.

"Thank you for telling me this, son."

Well, at least one good thing had come out of the whole messed-up CAT. Pain shared is pain eased, and pain eased can begin to heal.

"You're welcome, Father."

* * *

><p>They have so many issues. Jazz should just drag them all into family therapy and be done with it. On the other hand, at least Danni has adjusted to life as a princess.<p>

Did they seem OOC to you?

-Corona


	6. Revelation

The good things about my talk with Pariah were manifold: we bonded, as Jazz would put it; he didn't feel quite so lonely; and maybe, just maybe, he healed a little more inside. The bad thing was that he experienced an onslaught of paternal protectiveness and insisted on sending bodyguards with me.

If they had been thralls, I wouldn't have minded so much. If an overzealous thrall had decided to attack L or shove Dash Baxter into a locker, I could have stopped it before it did too much damage. Maybe the action would even earn me some brownie points with them.

But no. He sent me Ancients. _Three _of them.

The gray-robed specters, two at my side and one behind me, were invisible to humans but not to ghosts and halfas. That wasn't much comfort to me. I _knew_ they were there, so every few seconds I would glance behind myself and whimper.

"Chill out, dude," Tucker ordered.

"Easy for you to say," I hissed. "You can't see them. But they're right there, Tuck, and they're _staring at me._"

"Well, they are supposed to be watching you," Sam pointed out.

"No," I ranted, "they're supposed to be guarding me, not staring at me!" I glared at them. "Quit staring at me!" The last sentence came out louder than I'd intended. Several other students gave me nervous looks.

…Well, at least they stopped staring at me. Now they were surveying the crowd, seeking out threats before they could get me.

Speak of the devil, and the devil should arrive. In this case, the devil was a bulky blond in a football jacket.

"Oh, no," I moaned in a tiny voice. A quick glance behind me revealed that all three of my Ancient bodyguards were focused on Dash.

"You got that right, Fen-toad," he snarled, grabbing my shirt.

The temperature dropped noticeably. The Ancients gathered energy in the palm of their hands. At point-blank range, they couldn't possibly miss.

"No!" I shouted. "Don't!"

Dash smirked… and all Hades broke loose.

The Ancients entered the visible spectrum in all their gray-robed medieval glory. Dash shrieked like a little girl and dropped me. He scurried back against a wall, knocking over two petrified nerds in the process.

"Don't shoot!" I yelled, gesticulating wildly.

They stared at me with impassive red eyes. For a long, long moment, time stood still. Then the masses of energy between their hands disintegrated. The Ancients vanished from human sight, retreating into the spectrum that only ghosts and their half-breed kin could see.

A voice that was somehow three voices but not a voice at all resounded in my mind. It was a powerful voice, a collection of impressions and words and _weight._ It was as though their souls were touching mine, and in that touch I perceived the length of their years and the vastness of their power and the strength of their loyalty to my father and, through him, to me.

As thou commandest, Shadow Prince, the Ancients rasped. And they knelt. Ten others appeared behind them, invisible to the human eye but not to mine. They, too, were kneeling.

A strange sensation filled me. Shadow Prince… the title should have sounded ridiculous, but it didn't. It sounded _right_.

Then Jack, Maddie, and L ruined the moment by bursting in with guns blazing. The ten Ancients not assigned to me melted away.

"CLEAR!" my foster father bellowed. His fingers convulsed around the trigger. Goop exploded from the ecto-gun's barrel, covering everything it touched except the unimpressed Ancients, who just phased through it. "WE HAVE A GHOST EMERGENCY!"

"_The Hero with a Thousand Faces,_ people, don't you ever get here on time!" Lancer yelled.

L turned that shark's gaze on him. My teacher blanched, slowed to a halt. "We have an ecto-emergency," the agent growled. "Gather up the witnesses and send everyone else home."

Lancer drew himself up bravely, but it was obvious that the Guy in White intimidated him. "School policy says that if no damage or injuries occurred, the students stay. If we sent them away every time a ghost attacked, we'd never get anything done."

"That's L?" Sam breathed. I nodded. She shuddered. "My respect for Lancer just doubled. No, tripled."

"Mine quadrupled," Tucker agreed. "That guy is scary."

Our teacher put up a brave fight, but the Whitecoat was good at having his way. He didn't manage to cancel school for the rest of the day, but all witnesses were rounded up for individual interrogation with L and my foster-parents. All students came out with pale faces, trembling hands, and sweat rolling down their foreheads.

Dash was one of the first to be questioned. He stopped by me before heading off to class. "That guy is living in your house?" he squeaked. I nodded miserably. The jock shuddered and actually patted me on the shoulder before leaving.

I was the last person to be called, probably just because L wanted to waste as much of my time as he could. That worked for me, though, since it gave me the opportunity to speak with the Ancients without anyone overhearing. "Look," I ordered softly, "don't attack anyone in that room unless I'm bleeding or unconscious. I really don't need L wondering if there's a connection between you guys and me." Of course, with my luck, he probably already suspected it, but there was no need to give him more ammunition.

The white-clad one is a fit meal for Ammut, that strange triple voice observed.

I inclined my head ever so slightly. Ammut, Pariah's pet hippo-crocodile-lioness creature, ate the souls of those who were irredeemably evil (when such souls were scarce, she survived off pancakes. Don't ask). If she hadn't been so stuffed after eating Djall and Dan in short succession, I would have been tempted to sic her on L.

"Daniel Fenton," he called. I gulped and walked over to the door. _Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. _

"Tell us what happened," he ordered. His hands were folded on the desk. Jack and Maddie fidgeted at his right and left. Neither spoke.

"Um…." An idea struck. L thought that I was mentally retarded due to my ghost DNA. Why not take advantage of that? I schooled my features into idiocy- not enough to make my false parents suspicious, but enough to throw the agent off my trail. "I came to school with Sam and Tucker, and Dash grabs me. I ask him not to shove me in the locker. Next thing I know, he drops me because these three ghosts have popped up behind me. He freaks out, cuz it looks like they're gonna shoot someone, and scurries away. I start shouting at the ghosts to not shoot, cuz I'm too dumb to run screaming like a normal person, and then they must've heard you guys coming, because they vanish."

Those shark's eyes bored into me. I squirmed, not bothering to hide my discomfort. I was a normal teen, a normal teen who had nothing _to _hide.

"Have ghosts ever obeyed you before?" he demanded.

My entire body jerked with shock. "Obeyed me? Heck no! I don't stand around ordering evil ghosts to do my bidding. I run. Well, except for today, of course. That was really dumb."

The agent wasn't buying it. Cold sweat trickled down my spine. "And why didn't you run today?" he accused.

Show your panic, Fenton-Phantom. You're a normal teen. Anyone would be freaked out by these accusations. "What are you saying?" I yelped.

"Don't you think it's a little suspicious that these ghosts save you from a bully and listen to you when you tell them not to shoot?" He leaned across the desk. I flinched back. "Quite the coincidence, don't you think?"

"I didn't have anything to do with this!" I cried, exaggerating my fear. _Predator, hunter,_ my instincts screamed. _Run, Fenton-Phantom, and never return. _

L smiled. "But there are a lot of coincidences surrounding you, aren't there." It wasn't a question.

And I knew. I knew what he was saying. I knew the purpose behind this little demonstration, why he had called me last, why he had let Jack and Maddie sit in on the interrogations.

Strangely, the knowledge didn't frighten me. It was a relief, actually. My shoulders un-tensed.

For the first time, I shed my Fenton persona in the full view of my former parents. I didn't go ghost- that would be foolhardy, even now- but I sloughed off Fenton's weakness, his cowardice, the entire mask.

It felt good.

I met his eyes. Agent L was a shark, yes, but he was not the only warrior in the room. "How did you find out?" I asked quietly.

His grin widened; I half-expected to see fangs. "You're not half as clever as you think you are," he gloated. "Same face, same voice…. It hit me just this morning."

"Just out of the blue?"

He shrugged. "I've been thinking about you for a long time, freak. Why you were so different, why you disappeared so easily, how you always got through ghost shields…. When I searched your room earlier today, it all clicked." Something else clicked, too. A gun, fully charged, aimed directly at my head.

My room doesn't have anything too explicitly Phantom-linked. That would be downright stupid. But there were little things he might have found- bloodied gauze, died red to hide the greenish tint of my blood, carefully hidden beneath wrappers and homework in my trash can; a picture of Danni and I in our human forms; a spare pair of the dark, fingerless gloves favored by my Phantom self…. Taken together with my voice, my face, and the fact that he knew I was half-ghost, it was no wonder he'd found out my secret.

"Danny?" I had almost forgotten Maddie was there. "What is he talking about?"

L sneered at her. "You don't deserve to call yourselves hunters," he hissed. "Three years, Fenton. You fostered Phantom in your own home for _three_ _years_ without realizing it."

"What are you talking about?" she whispered. Behind her, Jack's eyes widened in dawning horror. He, too, knew.

"I'm Phantom." Two simple words that changed my half-life forever.

L rose. "I'll take that as a confession. Guys!"

Whitecoats burst into the office, breaking down the door, shattering the window. So that was why they'd interviewed me last- he wanted time for his forces to regroup. Even as his minions attacked, L pressed the trigger, his face twisted in ugly glee.

I reacted without thought. A green shield sprang up between me and the blast, saving my half-life and exposing me so thoroughly that not even Jack and Maddie Fenton could deny what it meant. Their faces were gray, sick with horror.

I could stay and fight them. I could take my revenge on L for exposing me-though it looked like I already had revenge; his shot had rebounded and hit him full in the face. He had fallen, half-conscious and moaning. I could make Jack and Maddie pay for the years of fear and heartbreak, all the nights I'd fought back tears. It would be easy.

But it was equally easy to wave flippantly, say, "Bye," and phase through the floor.

Fenton became Phantom, who landed gracefully on the floor of the school's basement. Mr. Mulligan, the janitor, gawked. I waved awkwardly and dove through the wall.

The calm evaporated. What to do, what to do? Stupid question. I knew exactly what to do.

Invisible, shields at full strength, I flew once again through the ceiling. It took less than three seconds to locate Jack and Maddie- their neon jumpsuits weren't exactly inconspicuous. They and the Guys in White were shrieking at Principal Ishyama about how they needed access to the school basement _now._ Quite a few students (and teachers) had stuck their heads out their classrooms to watch the show. Sam and Tucker were among them.

An idiotic thought struck me: I'd missed my English test entirely. Second hour had passed, and third period was almost halfway over. I'd studied hard for that test. I'd have done well on it, maybe even gotten an A. Now I never would.

I shook the thought out of my head. Meeting Tucker's eyes, I shouted, "The shark let the cat out of the bag! Go to the place that would've been gone but not forgotten!"

Tucker's face drained of color. He shook his head once, then sucked in a breath and nodded. Other kids began asking each other what my riddle had meant.

I flew to Jack and Maddie, grabbed them by the arm. They became intangible; their weapons fell to the floor. Then I joined them in intangibility, and we soared through the ceiling.

"Let us _go_, you filthy lying freak!" Maddie shrieked, struggling fruitlessly against my grip. Her husband kicked at me, stubby legs passing through my ghostly tail.

I landed on top of a random apartment building and shifted back into human form. The hunters froze. It was one thing to hear their son confessing his secret identity. It was another thing entirely to see the proof.

I held out my hands in the classic gesture of peace. "Mayor Montez was overshadowed by a ghost named Walker who hates my guts and wanted to make my home into a prison. I shot at you guys then because I thought you were overshadowed. The jewels-"

Maddie charged, fists swinging. "No more lies!"

I jumped above her, hovered just beyond her reach. "I'm sorry for not telling you, okay? But can you really blame me for not informing a pair of _ghost hunters_ that I'm _half-ghost?_"

"Yes!" roared Jack. He ran at me. A few feet away, he leapt into the air.

Didn't these people understand that I could just go intangible? Evidently not, I decided, as Jack's large form soared through me.

The hunter yelped in terror. I turned. To my horror, he wasn't able to stop his momentum. He went crashing over the side of the roof.

Rings flared around my waist, and Danny Phantom lunged towards Danny Fenton's former father. I swooped beneath him, hooked him under the arms, carried him to the relative safety of the rooftop. He rewarded the kid who saved his life by punching at me. There's gratitude for you.

They obviously weren't going to listen to reason anytime soon, so I flew about twenty feet higher. They knew they couldn't jump that high, so I wouldn't have to worry about them falling off the roof. "I'll send you an email explaining everything," I promised, and flew away.

"Don't bother," Maddie screamed after my retreating form. "You are not our son!"

* * *

><p>Just when you thought Danny's family dynamics couldn't get more messed up... they do. The Fentons are NOT happy.<p>

On another note, does _Shadow Prince Chronicles _sound like it's too cheesy to be the name of this series? I don't know how long it's going to be, so I don't want to call it a duet or trilogy or quartet or anything. Oh, and I need a cool name/title for Danni, too. The *something-related-to-darkness-or-shadows* Princess.

On yet another note, I think that updates on this are going to slow. I want to focus on finishing up _Backpack_ just because I'm so close to getting it done. This will probably be updated before _Backpack _ends, but not very much. Don't worry, though. I promise not to abandon this.

-Corona


	7. Evacuation

_Not our son. _

It shouldn't have hurt. I knew I wasn't their son; I had known that for a long time. They had stopped being my parents years ago. I had found a new family, a clan of ghosts and humans and another halfa.

_Not our son._

Ring of Rage, how many people would Pariah's blood drive away? Jack and Maddie weren't the only ones who had taken my heritage badly- and they didn't know the half of it. Frostbite and Pyrrha were trying to come to terms with it, but their wedding was tomorrow. I hadn't heard from them for weeks.

The Ancients and I hovered, invisible, by the window of the Nasty Burger. Sam and Tucker had claimed our usual table. The techno-geek was talking quietly but rapidly on a cell phone. It sounded like he was telling Jazz what had happened.

Jazz. My heart constricted. Jack and Maddie would force her to choose between them and me. I knew what her choice would be, and I knew how much it would cost her to make it. She'd probably get disowned, too. Her parents would never accept a daughter who sided with ghosts.

I flew into the men's room. The rings split around my waist, returning me to human form. "Stay invisible," I told the Ancients.

We hear and obey, Highness. 

"Yeah," I mumbled back.

Sam sprinted into my arms the second she noticed me approaching. "What happened?" she demanded.

I held her tight, rocking her back and forth. Tucker came up, joined our hug. We stayed there for a long moment, taking comfort from simple human and half-human contact, then broke apart.

"L searched my room." My words sounded distant, muffled. "I don't know what exactly he found, because it's not like I leave that much evidence behind-" My friends nodded. They sometimes searched my room for anything too incriminating, anything that would give me away. I passed each of their tests with flying colors. "-but whatever it was, it was enough for him to put all the pieces together."

"Say it into the cell phone," Tucker ordered softly.

Jazz was on the other end. "Danny!" she cried. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"They know," I told her dully. "L figured it out. He got me into the principal's office with Jack and Maddie and confronted me about it. Then he called in some of his goons, and I used my powers to get away. Then I grabbed Jack and Maddie, brought them- I'm not entirely sure where, but it was private enough for pretty much any conversation- and tried to explain."

"They didn't take it well." My sister knew exactly what that meant.

"I'm pretty sure they disowned me," I admitted. Sam squeezed my hand.

"Are you okay?" Jazz asked.

I nodded. Then, realizing she couldn't see me, I added, "Yeah. I think so. I'm not injured or anything, but…." My voice trailed off. "This was coming for a long time, you know? Ever since I stepped into the portal… no, even earlier, ever since they got ahold of Pariah's blood and made two half-ghost babies."

"But that doesn't make it hurt less." She understood.

"No," I sighed, "it doesn't. Crown of Fire, it doesn't."

"Can you tell me exactly what happened?" Jazz asked softly.

Voice dull, I repeated everything that had happened: Dash, the Ancients, every detail I could remember of our conversation in the office, how I had kidnapped Jack and Maddie. My sister and my friends listened wordlessly. Sam's hand gripped my shoulder.

"What now?" Tucker whispered.

I collapsed into the nearest booth. I felt old, so very old, more ancient than the Ancients. "I don't know, okay? I don't know what to do."

Fenton was my fallback, my refuge, the eye of the hurricane. My half-life might be completely insane, but I could always shift back to human form at the end of the day and go back to my room in FentonWorks. The Fentons weren't normal, not by any stretch of the imagination, but they were the weirdness I _knew_, not the unending unknown. And there had been so much turmoil in my half-life lately….

Jazz came to my rescue. "Right now, you guys have to get to safety. Go into the Ghost Zone. We don't know how the Guys in White will react to this."

She was right. The Whitecoats were incompetent morons, but… Agent L was dangerous. I wouldn't put it past him to kidnap Sam or Tucker or someone else to get at me. They were in danger.

And, as always, it was my fault.

"What about you?" I demanded. Jack and Maddie _probably_ wouldn't let L do anything to their only child… but Jazz was a sympathizer, and the agent was more than cunning enough to get at her anyways.

"I'll be fine," she assured me. "I can try to talk to them."

"Jazz-"

"But don't worry, Danny," she ordered. "I have a backup plan. Remember that hourglass Clockwork gave me? If they try anything, I can just turn it. I'll be safe. I'll be fine, little brother. Promise."

It wasn't like I could fly over and kidnap her (much as the idea tempted me). If I did, she'd get expelled from- Styx and Lethe! If I took Sam and Tucker into the Ghost Zone, what would happen to their academic records? I'd probably already been kicked out of Caspar High, but they were better students than I was. They might still have a chance. "Guys, what about school?" I worried.

Sam gave me a look that questioned my sanity. "You have an army of angry government-funded lunatics hunting you down and you're worried about high school?"

"Well…."

"We'll be fine," Tucker assured me. "We can come up with something. I don't know what, but we can do it."

"Call me back once you're safe," Jazz ordered. "I have to start planning what I'm going to say to them. Is there anything you don't want me to say?"

"Yeah. Don't tell them that I sent an Ancient to guard you." I glared at my guards.

The three spirits nodded in unison. One of our brethren has been sent, Highness. None shall harm the sister of your heart.

I smiled weakly at them. Maybe there were benefits to this Shadow Prince business after all.

"I don't need a-" Jazz's protest cut off in a yelp. "How did you get here so quickly? No, never mind. I really appreciate this and all, but you really don't need to do this."

"It's not gonna work," I told her. "They answer to me." A pause. "Well, unless Pariah's ordered them otherwise."

"Thanks." There was a smile in her voice. "Call me when you're safe, okay? And if you don't, I'll call you after the confrontation." She hung up, but not before I heard her gulp.

"There are thirteen Ancients, right?" Tucker asked. I nodded. "And three are here with you, and one's with Jazz. Do you… what if the Whitecoats try to get at Sam or me through our parents?"

My girlfriend's grip on my shoulder tightened. Her nails dug into my flesh. She and her parents had never seen eye to eye, but that didn't mean she didn't love them.

I glanced at the Ancients. They nodded. How many shalt we send, Highness? 

"One per family sounds about right, I think." Sam and Tucker agreed. They'd heard all about the Ancients' reputation. If the most powerful entities in the Ghost Zone couldn't handle the Guys in White, Sam would eat meat.

"I need to pack," Tucker decided. "My hard drive- they probably can't hack it, but I don't want to take the chance. And clean underwear would be nice too."

"I should grab some stuff too," Sam muttered. She was still very pale.

We were completely silent on the flight to Tucker's house and the subsequent flight to Sam's mansion. My numbness had returned, replacing the terror I'd felt when Jazz insisted on staying behind.

I had asked Clockwork, once, what would happen if I told Jack and Maddie the truth. Of course I'd asked him- he was the Master of All Time, and I was a frightened teenager with a decision to make that would affect or destroy my entire half-life. I would have been stupid not to ask him about whether or not my secret should be kept.

He was quiet for a long, long time, looking at me with an expression that said everything. Finally he had sighed and told me, "You were wise to erase their memories before destroying the Reality Gauntlet." Later that day, I had slipped up and called Maddie by name in my Fenton form for the first time.

"I'm gonna go fly awhile," I mumbled to Sam. She nodded.

Ancients in tow, I flew. Flying is one of those things that always makes you feel better, and while it didn't make me a whole lot happier about the whole situation, it restored my rational mind.

Should I go back and pack too? FentonWorks was probably filled with angry Whitecoats, and clean human clothes weren't worth the trouble of going through them. But what about my other stuff, my laptop and ghost books? Everything important was written in Esperanto, but….

I had to go back. Who knew what the crazies would do with my ghost files, Ghost Zone map, history books, or any of the other things I had lying around? Granted, all the really incriminating stuff was hidden inside the walls where humans couldn't normally get to them, but I wouldn't be surprised if Jack and Maddie tore down my room. They'd definitely find the books then. And my laptop was just sitting there on my desk. Tucker had protected it to the best of his abilities, but… like he had said, it was better not to take the chance.

I shifted into full invisibility. My shields thickened, hiding me from ghost detection machines. My fire powers spread heat evenly throughout my body, raising it to room temperature. What? They _might_ have heat-detection goggles, and paranoia was the only thing keeping me alive.

Invisible in ways most ghosts could only dream of, I ordered the Ancients to wait. This was a solo mission- they didn't have pyrokinesis, and I didn't want to risk the Whitecoats having those heat-vision goggles.

As I'd expected, the house was filled with Guys in White. Agent L wasn't there, but a bunch of his cronies had broken into my room and were sacking my closet. It was almost funny, really: a bunch of muscular men in immaculate white suits sifting through my dirty socks with one hand while holding an ecto-gun with the other.

My Ancient retinue probably felt very underappreciated. They'd been reduced from bodyguards to book holders by the time I'd finished getting all my literature out.

Now came the tricky part: retrieving my laptop. Actually, it wasn't so tricky. My top speed is over two hundred mph. It was easy to swoop in, grab my computer, and swoop out before the Whitecoats noticed I was there.

The Ancients and I popped into the Ghost Zone (to the room Danni wanted me to stay in, the room next to hers in the Keep,) to drop off my stuff before teleporting back to Tucker's place. He was seated at his desk, scribbling a note. With pen and paper, no less.

"Give me another minute or two," he ordered. "I have to- Mom and Dad'll think I've been kidnapped if I don't finish this. But don't worry- they won't know your secret."

He hadn't meant to make me feel worse, but he did. Bad enough that my family and Jazz's had been torn apart, now the Foleys had to suffer too? And the Mansons as well- they really did love their daughter, despite her Gothic ways.

And it was my fault. If I'd been less careless, more cautious… if I'd been man enough to leave 'home' before they found out… even if I'd told them in private, without L there to make everything worse….

It was my fault. All my fault.

"Hey, Danny?" Tucker had finished his note. He tucked it beneath his sheets. His mother, Lola, would find it there. She did laundry whenever she got too stressed out, and losing Tucker would definitely stress her out. "I know what you're thinking, but… it's not your fault. This secret of yours… it's too big to stay hidden forever. Someone was eventually going to find out. It's not your fault that someone found out in the most inconvenient way possible. If you need to blame anyone, blame Agent L." He laid a hand on my shoulder. Then, embarrassed by his unmanly mini-speech, he added, "Do you think Sam's done yet?"

"Probably," I shrugged. Then, before the moment ended, I hugged him. It was a quick hug, a man-hug, but it was enough.

Sam, too, had decided to write a note. Tucker and I waited patiently and silently until she was finished. We grabbed her bags (Tucker's had already been deposited in "my" room) and fled from the human world.

* * *

><p>Danny needs a hug. *hugs him* Poor Danny.<p>

It's been a while since I updated this. Blame Backpack. Hopefully now that that's finished, I'll have more time to work on this.

I'm still taking suggestions for series names and titles for Danni.

-Corona


	8. Settling In

It's not particularly heroic to collapse onto your bed (which, incidentally, had NOT been here on my last trip to the Keep ten minutes ago), but I wasn't in a very heroic mood. Why would I be? I'd just been forced to steal from my own home, to half-kidnap my two best friends, and to abandon my sister to pain and suffering. Those actions are _not_ conductive to a heroic mindset.

"Why do these things happen to me?" I whined. Since my face was in a pillow, it came out more like "Wy-oo-theeez inz abben-oo-ee?"

"Because life hates you," Tucker volunteered. He yelped. Sam had probably elbowed him for that comment.

Notice that the Goth girl is elbowing a techno-geek for being too gloomy. More proof (like I needed more) that the world was upside down.

The best way to make me feel better is to distract me. By the time the distraction is over and I have time to think again, my mind has sublimated whatever's made me miserable. Sam knew this, so she suggested, "Why don't you show us around?"

She and Tucker had been in the Keep before, but they'd never received the official tour (mostly because I was still finding my way around. This place was a maze). I was inclined to say no- I really wanted to sulk for a while- but reluctantly dragged myself off the bed. "We should find you rooms, too," I mumbled. I glanced at the Ancients, who had become visible once more. "Um… are you still gonna follow me around? Because no one is stupid enough to attack Pariah's Keep. Except me, and I'm obviously not going to attack myself."

The first one grinned; the expression reminded me uncomfortably of Clockwork. It was fairly obvious that the Ancients, too, took a sadistic delight in perverting authority. For the first time, I almost felt a tiny smidgen of sympathy for the Observants. Almost. Thy sire hath commanded us, Shadow Prince. Him we must obey.

I groaned.

Once again, the castle knew what we needed before we did. The door on the left of my room (Danni's chamber was on my right) led into an almost-exact replica of Tucker's room back home. I'm serious. It didn't have any of the mess or any clothes, but the furniture was exactly the same. I think that the furniture somehow migrated into the room from other parts of the castle and shifted along the way- but the blanket-less bed, oak dresser, and desk were exactly where they would have been in the human world. The most striking difference was the size. This room was huge.

"This is both cool and creepy," Tucker announced after a few seconds of silence. "How did it know?"

"Don't look at me," I ordered. "Maybe it just likes you. _I _didn't get a replica room."

Thy old abode was not what thy heart desired, the Ancients explained. The Keep shalt only provide what thou wouldst want. 

"Oh."

"What's oh?"

I'd forgotten that Sam couldn't hear the Ancients. "Do you think you guys could talk out loud when my friends around? Um… please?" What _was_ the protocol for ordering around your father's royal servants who literally existed only to obey him?

"As thou commandeth, Shadow Prince." The Ancient's speaking voice was a lot like its mind-speech: old, strong, somehow one and thirteen simultaneously.

"Shadow Prince?" Tucker echoed.

I blushed. The nickname had seemed so cool earlier, but now it was just ridiculous. "Yes, peasant. Bow before your Shadow Prince!"

"I like it," Sam volunteered. "But you still haven't told me what the oh was about."

"It was just something the Ancients said about how 'The Keep shalt only provide what thou wouldst want.' That's why Tucker's room is fully furnished while mine just has a bed. My subconscious or whatever's in charge of interior decorating doesn't know what I want, so the castle won't provide it."

"Talk about the walls having eyes. And ears. And mind-reading capabilities," Tucker muttered. "But on a completely different topic, could you guys head out while I unpack?"

"Su- wait." I paused in mid-step. How had Danni summoned that thrall again? Feeling stupid, I asked the room, "Are there any thralls around who aren't busy or anything?"

It was a bad thing to say.

Thousands of thralls materialized from the shadows. The green skeletons crowded around the walls, near the door, above us, even sticking their skull-heads through the floor (apparently rules about not going intangible in the Ghost Zone didn't apply to them).

Tucker shrieked. He jumped backward, trying to avoid the mass of thralls in front of him, and knocked over all the skeletal servants behind him. He staggered forward. "Ew ew ew! I touched dead people!" A pause. "Uh, no offense."

"None taken," rasped one of the thralls.

Tucker made a face like a fish out of water. "Oh. Okay."

Note to self: don't ever call for any and all available thralls. I selected one at random and asked, "Would you mind unpacking Tucker's stuff?" It saluted. The others melted away. "Great. Thanks."

My breath plumed into visibility, blue-green and blue. Two familiar presences washed over me. My body went rigid. Danielle I could understand, but….

"Great One!" Frostbite yelled. He grabbed me in a huge bear hug.

"Frostbite!" I laughed, trying to hug him back. It didn't work, him being pretty broad in the chest, but it's the thought that counts, right? "What're you doing here?" Pariah's Keep was the last place I would ever expect to see him. He knew, intellectually at least, that the ghost king wasn't an enemy, but he'd spent the last three thousand years listening to horror stories about the War of Power. It took a lot of guts to overcome that kind of conditioning.

"I was searching for you and your sister, of course," he replied. That big, toothy, terrifying-to-normal-people grin of his was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my half-life. By the Five Rivers, I had _missed _him. "I could hardly tell my messengers that you were probably in Pariah's Keep, now, could I?"

The yeti released me. I dropped to the floor. He darted around me to grab Sam and Tucker in an equally friendly bear hug. My girlfriend's face was a little blue by the time he set them down. Frostbite is one of the neverborn, the ghosts who were born ghosts, and he tends to forget that humans need to breathe.

"Guess who's going to be maid of honor and best man at his wedding!" Danni sing-songed.

My grin nearly split my face. "Seriously?" I gasped.

"Very seriously!" he agreed. Then, suddenly shy, he added, "If you are still willing. After my treatment of you, I can understand if you aren't."

The sight of the thousand-pound snow monster with horns, fangs, claws, and an icy arm shuffling his feet and grinning sheepishly was enough to make me laugh out loud. "Are you kidding? That just made my day!"

Frostbite beamed. I wasn't the only one whose day had just been made.

Danni gazed around Tucker's new room. "This is new," she observed. "And what's with the suitcase?"

The smile dropped from my face.

"Great One?" asked Frostbite. "What's wrong, Great One?"

"L figured it out, didn't he," whispered Danielle.

I nodded, sagged onto Tucker's bed. I buried my head in my hands. "You can say that again."

"Who is L?" Frostbite wondered.

To my horror, I felt tears prick at my eyes. I squeezed them shut- there was _no way_ I was giving Agent L the satisfaction of making me cry. Never mind that he would never know about it, that the tears stemmed from a whole lot of other things that weren't directly his fault. If I started bawling like a baby, L would win.

It took a few swallows, but I forced back the tears. My voice only quivered a little as I explained the events of the past few days to Frostbite and my sister.

"So, yeah. We're going to hide out here, regroup, figure out what to do. I don't suppose you have any suggestions?"

Danni and Frostbite shook their heads. My twin laid a hand across my shoulder. "I don't know," she whispered. "I just don't know."

* * *

><p>It turned out that I didn't have time to do anything- at least, not anything about the situation in the Human World. There were a lot of things that needed doing in the Ghost Zone, like attending Frostbite and Pyrrha's much-abbreviated wedding rehearsal (we just barely got there in time. Frostbite had really been cutting it close).<p>

By the time Danni and I returned from the border between the Burning Lands and the Far Frozen, Jazz had showed up. The castle had given her the room between Danni's and Sam's chambers. She lay there on her bed, bawling away, while Clockwork (looking more awkward than I'd ever seen him) uncomfortably patted her back. He looked pretty relieved when Danni and I came back. Maintaining the sanctity of the time stream was one thing; comforting a disconsolate college girl was quite another.

Our sister ended up crying herself to sleep, which was probably good. I looked up at Clockwork, who hadn't left yet, and whispered, "It was worse than she expected, wasn't it."

"Much worse," he agreed softly. He brushed a lock of hair from her face, very gently, and stood. "Let her tell you about it. For now, though, you should go find your friends and father. Jasmine will be fine- she won't wake up for another four hours and twenty-six minutes."

My brain skittered- not over what he'd said, but what he'd done. I shook my head, forcing the ridiculous thought out of my head. Clockwork and Jazz, _together?_ That was too weird, even for me, so it obviously wasn't real. Friends did stuff like brush away hair too. Sometimes.

"On another note," he continued, "you two need to make your decision soon. You are running out of time."

There was only one decision he could be talking about. I flinched away, shuffled my feet. "What should we do? What would happen if the Ghost Zone knew about our messed-up family history?"

"I cannot say," he sighed. "At the moment, the time stream is like a kaleidoscope. Any shift, no matter how insignificant, can and will change the entre future. In some worlds, it is best for you to remain silent. In others, it is best to tell."

I groaned. "This day just gets better and better."

"But how can we be running out of time if the future's so uncertain?" Danni asked. "What if this is a world where it's best to delay more?" She knew what she wanted- to proclaim her heritage to the world- but knew that I was uncertain. It was for my benefit, not hers, that she asked.

"Some things are constant," was Clockwork's response. "It is difficult to explain further. You would probably need a PhD to understand entirely, but then, you don't need to. All you need to know is that Pariah _must _give his statement to the Ghost Zone before Christmas, or war will break out."

On that cheery note, he opened one of his clock-shaped portals and vanished.

I hid my face in my hands, counted to ten. Then I counted to ten again.

There was no way that I could make a decision today. My emotions had already been strained beyond endurance, and I knew from experience that stress leads to really bad choices. One thing at a time, Fenton-Phantom.

And advice wouldn't hurt either. "Do you have any idea where Sam and Tucker are?" I asked.

Danni shrugged. "No, but I know how to find them." A trio of thralls materialized at her back. "Do you guys or any of your brethren know where Sam and Tucker are?"

"They are speaking with our master, Highness," the thrall in the middle rasped. "We will take you to them."

"Thanks."

My twin and I followed the skeleton to one of the many rooms I'd never been in before. It was about twice as large as Pariah's usual hangout, and it was obviously intended as a recreational room. There was a big, poofy couch, a bunch of plush chairs, and an enormous TV.

"How did that get here?" I whispered to Danni.

She shrugged. "I have no idea. Since when has anything about his castle made sense?"

She had a good point, so I didn't make any other comments. I coughed to announce our presence.

"Danny! Danni!" Tucker exclaimed. "I thought you'd never get back. How long did that rehearsal last, anyways?"

"Not half as long as you think it did," I grumbled, collapsing into one of the cushier chairs. "We ran into Jazz once we got back."

Tucker's smile faded. "Oh."

"She's sleeping now," Danni continued. "She'll stay that way for another four hours or so."

I glanced at Pariah. "You don't mind, do you?" I asked nervously. This _was_ his house, after all, and I hadn't exactly asked permission before letting my friends crash here.

"I do not mind at all," he replied. "This Keep is meant to be filled with more than thralls and Ancients."

"Thank you," I murmured, relieved. What would we have done if Pariah kicked us out? Probably the Far Frozen. Maybe Aragon- Dora's pretty close with Sam, and Tucker likes trying to modernize it. Besides, Dora still feels kind of guilty about chasing me and Danni around in dragon form a couple weeks ago.

"It is the least I can do to repay my debt," he pointed out.

"We've been filling him in," Sam explained. "We just got to the part when you tell us to head to the Nasty Burger."

That was my cue. "Want me to tell the rest?"

"That will not be necessary," Pariah informed me. I blinked. "Now that your Ancients have returned, I can take the knowledge directly from their minds." My three bodyguards (who had attended the wedding rehearsal completely invisible) floated forward.

As they… _exchanged_ _information,_ I guess you could say, something prickled at my mind. It was like someone was tickling the inside of my skull with a feather. I suspected that a little more focus would allow me to 'overhear' what the Ancients were telling Pariah.

He 'listened' (again, there was no better way to describe it) with a steadily darkening expression. "What treachery is this?" he hissed.

"They don't like me," I mumbled. "They _really_ don't like me."

I don't know if his rage was that of an overprotective father whose son had been hurt, a king whose subject had been wounded, or a man who had seen someone he owed getting his heart torn out. But whatever the cause, Pariah Dark wasn't just angry. He wasn't just enraged.

He was _wroth._

"They and I shall speak of this," he growled, and tore open a portal to the Human World.

* * *

><p>Yes, I am a Timely Intelligence shipper. No, I don't know why, and no, it will not be playing a major role in this fic. I'm just going to hint at it from time to time (pun not intended).<p>

I'm still taking suggestions for Danni's title. Right now, Shade Princess sounds best to me.

About the wedding: I've been mentioning it since the prologue of _Kith and Kin_, and Danny needs some happiness now. Especially since Daddy is about to vaporize his foster-parents. DON'T DO IT, PARIAH!

-Corona


	9. Heart to Heart

There are some things that nobody wants to see angry: rabid animals, pregnant women, and, most terrifying of all, ghost kings. Only the fact that his anger was directed towards Jack and Maddie and not towards _me_ prevented me from hiding out in Antarctica for the next twenty or so years.

The portal Pariah had created literally _rippled_ with primal energies. My ghost sense went berserk, choking me. Danni doubled over, coughing, as brilliant blue smoke billowed from her mouth.

Pariah stepped towards the portal, a king walking to war. A king walking to a very one-sided war. But despite that, he looked nothing like the monster who had invaded Amity Park and dragged it into the Ghost Zone. This was righteous fury, not the gluttonous desire to conquer.

But _why_ he wanted to vaporize the Fentons wasn't a good enough reason for me to actually _let_ him vaporize the Fentons.

Wondering if I'd been dropped on my head as a baby, because there was no other way I'd ever do something this stupid, I darted between Pariah and his portal. "Um… I really don't think this is a good idea."

The tension in the room was almost palpable. Pariah tilted his head at me, face implacable, unreadable. I swallowed. "Really. Because do you really want to do this? Jazz always says that if you _know _you'll regret it in the morning, you probably shouldn't do this. And I might not have known you for long, but I have the feeling that if you vaporize the people who created your kids and raised your son to adulthood, you're gonna regret it in the morning."

The moment stretched out an eternity. Then Pariah's shoulders slumped. The wrath drained from his face. Bowing his head, he vanished. The portal crackled shut.

The good news: no one would get vaporized. The bad news: I'd probably just undone all the psychological healing he'd achieved since Djall. But in my defense, there would have been a lot more psychological damage if he'd actually done it.

"That was scary," Tucker finally managed to squeak.

"Like father, like son," Sam agreed.

I blinked at them. "What're you guys talking about?"

"Remember that one time Walker kidnapped Jazz?" my girlfriend asked. "You got… kind of like that."

"A lot like that," Tucker corrected her.

The incident they were referring to had taken place just over a year ago. Walker, tired of me helping his innocent prisoners escape, nabbed Jazz. He held her hostage in Bullet's private home, which I hadn't even known existed, and threatened to kill her unless I recaptured all the escaped prisoners and turned myself in. Sam, Tucker, Wulf, and I had used the Specter Speeder's Real World Item Detector to track down Jazz's clothes.

The second Wulf's portal closed and he and Jazz were in the Human World, I went berserk. It… was not pretty. Walker's prison is still nothing more than a heap of rubble.

"Oh," I gulped. "Yeah, it's probably a good thing he changed his mind, then." Especially since I still felt awful about the whole heap of rubble thing. It's one thing to know you have a dark side (pun not intended); it's another thing entirely to experience it.

"I should go find him," I mumbled.

"No," Sam corrected me. "Remember when you nuked Walker's prison? You needed some time to yourself. If he's anything like you, he's going to need the same."

"That's it!" exclaimed Danni, nearly startling me out of my skin.

For one wild moment, I imagined that she'd had some kind of burst of intuitive insight that would solve all our problems: Agent L's return and general scariness, Jack and Maddie's rejection, Jazz's heartbreak, Pariah's pain, the Ghost Zone's terror, Clockwork's new deadline… but of course she hadn't. Those problems were too big, too all-encompassing, to be solved all at once.

But she had managed to solve the oldest of those problems- our father's pain. "Danny, he's a lot like you. A _lot_ like you. And he's going through the same thing that you went through three years ago. How did you cope after facing Dan?"

"By throwing myself into my work," I breathed. Danni was right; he _was_ like me. "By doing everything I could to help people. To atone, I guess you could say. I worked myself into exhaustion."

"And when you had time to think about it, you were better," she finished. "Not entirely healed, but you could cope with it. You healed by doing stuff, not moping around all by yourself."

"So if Pariah starts doing more-"

"No. You didn't do just anything when you were recovering. You're a hero, and you needed to do hero stuff to heal."

"And he's a king," I breathed. "So he needs to _be _a king."

We'd been letting him mourn, thinking he needed time to himself to get better. But that was the exact opposite of what he required.

"So I _should_ go find him," I murmured.

Tucker hesitated. "Should we come too?" he wondered.

What would Jazz the super-shrink say to that? Probably something about one-on-one therapy before moving into group sessions and it would be damaging to bring my friends. Or maybe something about how group therapy was less psychologically threatening than individual sessions and I _should_ bring them.

Psychology is not my strong point.

I compromised by brining my twin. She had spent the most time in the Keep (besides Pariah himself, obviously), so she knew him best.

We found him (surprise, surprise) in the small room he used for introspection. But he wasn't the only one in that chamber.

Master no be sad. Master good master. Master good daddy. Humans bad. Humans hurt young master. Humans hurt own human-pup. Still love master. Master-pups still love master. 

A wide smile split Danni's face. "Ammut's back!" she enthused.

Sure enough, the part-crocodile part-lioness part-hippo mutant stock her reptilian head out the door. She was grinning brilliantly. Hi master-pups. See master? Master-pups still love master. No be sad.

Despite her terrifying appearance and fearsome reputation as an eater of souls (though only irredeemably evil ones), Ammut is nothing but an odd-looking telepathic puppy. She even wags her stubby hippo tail and licks faces like one. Her presence was exactly what Pariah needed. Dogs are therapeutic, after all.

Speaking of dogs, Ammut had brought a friend. A small green puppy darted out of the chamber, tail revolving frantically. Yipping in his high-pitched puppy voice, he leapt into my arms. "Cujo!" I laughed, scratching at his ears. The dog licked at my chin and snuggled into my arms.

Danni stroked Ammut's scaly head. The soul-eater's eyes fluttered shut in bliss. Then, with an audible sigh, she forced herself to focus. You here help master? Master sad.

"Yeah," Danni murmured, moving her hand from the crocodilian head. "We're here to help _Father._" She shot me a Look on the last word, a Look that said quite plainly that neither of us would call him 'sir' for the duration of this conversation. I saluted.

Pariah did not look up as we filed into the room. Ammut trotted over to his chair, laid her head on his leg. She made a tiny crooning noise. Master-pups love master. Ammut love master. Think Cujo love master too.

Her joke made me grin. A crocodile monster with a sense of humor; what would they think of next?

We were silent for a long moment, the three of us. Pariah slowly patted his pet's scalp and neck. I held Cujo, who was trying to go to sleep. Danni glanced from me to our father to Ammut to me again, wondering who would start.

"I apologize," Pariah confessed quietly. He stopped stroking Ammut's head. His hands were still.

"Believe me, I know how you feel," Danni said. Her voice was just as quiet as his. "The Fentons are jerks. There have been times when I wanted to vaporize them myself."

"That does not excuse my actions." His words were stronger now, a hint of steel hidden beneath the softness. "Even if-" He cut off.

"Even if what?"

"One of my gifts as king is to see a person's crimes the moment I lay eye upon him," he said quietly. "When I saw those… _people_… through the Ancients' eyes, I also saw what they did to you both as infants." His entire face tightened. "I had not truly understood why you were created until now. To deliberately create a sentient creature just to inflict such horrors upon it-! Not even Djall went that far."

My mouth opened of its own accord. Part of me wanted to defend the Fentons, to point out that they didn't see ghosts as sentient creatures and that I couldn't remember much of their experiments anyways, but I suppressed the urge. "No wonder you almost snapped."

"Almost?" he sneered, arching a brow.

"Almost," I repeated. "There's a pretty big difference between almost doing something and actually doing it."

We probably could have gone on all night if Danni hadn't interrupted us. "I've been pretty tempted to attack them myself," she confessed. "I've seen the scars Danny's gotten from them. I've read about what they did to him as a baby. He's told me what they do to ghosts. So you're not the only one who's wanted to cream them." She took a deep breath. "If I had snapped and gone after the Fentons, would you have forgiven me?"

"Of course, child." His answer was automatic, unthinking. He seemed honestly surprised that she had asked.

"Then why shouldn't you forgive yourself?"

He was quiet for a long, long while. Then he cracked a tiny smile. "You are both wise beyond your years. Perhaps I should just abdicate and let you run Kantara."

Kantara is an old, old name for the Ghost Zone- for the _united_ Ghost Zone as it had been thousands of years ago, before the War of Power and the Split of the Nations. Every once in a while someone tried to reunite the Underworld into a New Kantara, but they'd never succeeded. Kantara had only one king, and that king was Pariah Dark.

In other words, we couldn't have asked for a better transition. "Yeah," I mumbled, "about that. What are you going to do?"

He frowned at me, not entirely certain what I was trying to ask.

"About Kantara," Danni elaborated. "About being king. Are you gonna rule again? Abdicate? Make some kind of new ruling council- I _know_ you're not letting the Observants stay in power- and preside over it?"

Our father glanced away. "Once the Observants have cleared my name, I shall abdicate," he vowed quietly. "I am no longer worthy to be king."

At that moment, I hated Djall more than I'd ever hated anyone in my entire half-life. I despised him more than Dan, Vlad, Walker, the Observants- all my enemies combined.

If Ammut hadn't already eaten him, Djall would have been in for a world of pain.

"Don't say that," I snapped, slamming my fist onto the table. It shuddered but didn't break. Cujo, who had been sleeping in my arms, woke with a start. "_Djall_ was the one who didn't deserve kingship, not you."

"Look at the Ghost Zone," Danni ordered. She, too, clenched the table. "Until you became yourself again, it was broken. Shattered. Now it's finally healing- because of _you._"

"The Ghost Z- Kantara itself is speaking to you, Father. It's _begging _you to be king again." For the first time, the title 'father' didn't taste strange or stilted or forced. It slipped out naturally. I barely even noticed that I'd used it.

Danni took over. "Kantara needs a ruler. It needs _you_, because who else _could _handle something like this? Not the Observants; they're too corrupt. Not Clockwork; he has enough on his plate already. Not any of the Ghost Zone's current rulers; they would be prejudiced to their own realms. Not Danny or me; we're half-human teenagers with no experience at all. Just you."

"I think that the ghost will accept you. Maybe not right away, but eventually. The Observants… I don't envy their chances once the news about Djall gets out. You… I think that if you forgive yourself, the rest of the world will follow."

I expected Danni to add something else, but she seemed to think that my forgiveness quote was a good place to stop.

We waited.

"Do you truly believe," he asked, "that my people will…?" He trailed off, unable to continue.

"Yeah." My voice was strong and confident. "Especially once Danni and I reveal how we're related."

Until the words escaped my mouth, I hadn't realized that I had already decided on my course of action. But once I had said it, I realized that it was the best and only thing to do. Like Tucker had said, there were some things that just couldn't remain secret for long. This was one of them, and the sooner I spilled, the better it would be for the Ghost Zone. The Phantoms had a reputation; if we claimed descent from Pariah, people who would otherwise protest his return would accept him.

That, and I was sick and tired of secrets.

Danni lunged forward, engulfed me in a hug. Her hot tears ran down her cheeks, soaking into the fabric of my shirt. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much for giving me a family."

I hugged her back. "You already had one, sis. We're just making it public now."

With every word I spoke, it become more solid, more _real. _Clockwork would say that the kaleidoscope was settling down, becoming a mural or painting.

Told you that sublimation works for me.

Hooray! Ammut cheered. Happy happy. Tell eyeballs now.

We stared at her. "What?" I asked blankly. Where in the worlds had that come from?

Tell now, she repeated in her young-old voice. They have almost-plan. Need know young master's doings. Now have young master's doings, almost-plan become plan.

As always, it took several seconds to decipher her jumbled mind-speech. Then I realized what she was trying to say and my mouth fell open. Danni and I broke apart. "Wait. You mean the Observants are finally ready to break the news?"

Ammut grinned. Silly young master. Why else Ammut come back? 

* * *

><p>Hooray! Things are finally looking up, and their family dynamics have just become marginally less screwy! Double hooray!<p>

I know that some of you really wanted Pariah to... _ahem..._ meet the Fentons, and that will happen eventually. Just not right now.

Frostbite and Pyrrha's wedding is NOT a major part of this fic, so I'm not going to give it a lot of screen time. Going into detail about it isn't necessary for the plot to continue, because Danny and co. have more important things to worry about (no offense, Frostbite and Pyrrha).

Next chapter: We learn the Observants' plans, Clockwork makes another appearance, and the humans decide to overthrow the government. Part of it, at least.

-Corona


	10. Plans

Thralls were useful things. Sure, they were scary-looking and pathetically easy to disintegrate (unless they attacked en masse, as I had learned through painful experience), but they were servants first and foremost. Danni's servants, Pariah's servants, and _my _servants. That would take some getting used to.

Danni sent a thrall to tell Sam and Tucker what was going on. I watched closely, trying to figure out how she could summon them at will. She barely even needed to say a word. Pariah didn't need words at all to command them, but he let Danni do the ordering. I think he did that for my benefit- if I was going to reveal my heritage to the entire Ghost Zone, I would need to know how to boss the thralls around.

Another thrall was ordered to stand at Jazz's bedside (hopefully she wouldn't freak out upon waking up and seeing a glowing skeleton staring at her) and help her find Sam and Tucker. They could explain what was going on if we weren't back before she woke up. We probably wouldn't be. The Observants were notoriously slow.

Their Council Chamber was exactly the same as I remembered it: huge, round, and filled to bursting with terrified eyeball creatures in green-and-white robes. The whole Council was there, all one hundred and sixty-nine of them. They'd probably been waiting in that same position since Ammut left.

The Observants rose as one when Pariah (and me and Danni, but I'm not sure they noticed us) appeared in the chamber. Their eyeball heads remained fixed on the ground. No one dared make eye contact with the man they'd condemned to centuries of enslavement.

"I understand that you have fulfilled your duties?" Pariah had changed completely from the guilty, broken man Danni and I had confronted only minutes earlier. He was regal and calm, poised and confident, every inch a king.

"We have, Majesty," murmured the spokesperson. Don't ask me if it was male or female; I can never tell with Observants.

"Explain."

"The River Styx, sire."

The king went perfectly still. "Of course," he breathed.

I glanced at Danni, trying to figure out what was going on. We both knew what the Styx was- everyone in the Ghost Zone did- but we couldn't figure out what the Underworld's largest and most famous river could do to help us. Its waters held mysterious powers, but I couldn't think of any offhand that would help our situation.

"There is still one problem, however," the spokesperson continued. "We do not know how much of the story to tell."

That was my cue. "All of it," I told the Council. Many Observants jumped. Apparently they _hadn't_ realized that Pariah hadn't come alone. "The Ghost Zone deserves to know everything, so we'll tell them everything. The only thing we have to decide is when."

The Observants did not seem happy with my decision- or, more accurately, with the news that I'd made a decision. They had wanted me to delay as long as possible, because every day I delayed was another day they stayed in power, another day their reputation stayed intact.

The poor spokesperson looked sick. "We have not decided when," it babbled. "We thought- we didn't realize you had made your decision, Highness." It swallowed.

"Neither did I," I muttered.

"Pardon, Highness?"

I blushed. "Nothing."

"We should probably consult Clockwork about when to make the announcement." Either Danni had figured out what the River Styx had to do with this or she had decided to ignore it. My money was on the second option.

"We shall send for him," the spokesperson yelped. It gestured at the Observant nearest the door. "Retrieve the Master of All Time."

The unfortunate eyeball jumped. "W-with your leave, my liege," it stammered. Kowtowing in terror, it backed out of the room.

I glanced at Pariah, wondering if he would explain the mysterious Styx plan. He didn't oblige. Instead, he resumed speaking to the Council. "You will make your confession before I appear. Then Lord Clockwork will tell the story of how I regained my freedom from Djall and from the Sarcophagus. However, he will not name my children until the very end, at which point they will take their vows on the Stygian waters and elaborate on what he has said."

I felt like hitting myself. Beside me, Danni cringed in embarrassment.

The River Styx is the River of Vows. If you're in direct physical contact with it while making an oath, you _have_ to keep that promise. It's physically impossible not to. People who try go into a nine-year coma. When they wake up, their powers are reduced to a bare minimum until they fulfill their oath.

If Pariah swore on the Styx that he was telling the truth about Djall, the Ghost Zone… okay, they might think that as king he could weasel around the river's powers. But the Observants would be irrevocably bound. So would Danni and Clockwork and I. If the ghosts didn't believe Pariah, they would _have_ to believe us.

"Then I shall appear and address my people," he concluded. "I expect you to have your script prepared by this time tomorrow."

The Observants babbled their agreement, nodding frantically. A couple of them shifted towards the door, paused, glanced at the stern king in their midst, and settled back into their seats.

A portal opened in the center of the room, and Clockwork floated in. He was accompanied by the cringing Observant, which sprinted to its chair and did its best to disappear without actually turning invisible.

Unlike the Observants, Clockwork was in Pariah's good graces. He did bow to his liege lord, but it was a lot shallower than the Council's terrified groveling.

Pariah smiled at him, the brilliant dazzling expression that made me understand how anyone could unite the entire Ghost Zone into Kantara. "The decision is made, friend Cephissus," he announced.

Clockwork smiled back. His eyes were distant, unseeing, seeing more than we ever could.

We waited with bated breath as the Tempus Lord gazed into the future. He shifted through his forms: adult, elder, adult, child. The child's face relaxed. Perfectly content, he returned his gaze to the present and declared, "All Hallows' Eve, and the Golden Age will begin anew. Worry not, Majesty, for all spirits know that you are the true king."

And Cephissus, Watcher of the Past, Guide of the Present, Seer of the Future, Tempus Lord, Master of All Time, knelt. His hood had fallen, leaving him bare-headed and humble, the first ghost to offer fealty to his king in three thousand years.

Pariah's beatific smile widened. "Rise," he commanded gently. "I have never demanded that from my friends, only my enemies." He gave the Observants a significant look before returning his gaze to Clockwork. "And you are by no means my enemy."

Clockwork rose. He met my eyes briefly, turned to Danni, and vanished. He, too, had a script to prepare.

Danni and I exchanged glances. Like pretty much everyone else in this room, we had to write a script too. But unlike Clockwork and the Observants, we couldn't start yet. We had to wait until they had finished their first drafts so we knew where to begin.

"I would speak with my children in private," Pariah announced.

"Sure," I replied absently. Then, realizing that we were kind of in the middle of a great historical moment, I amended my words. "I mean, we hear and obey, oh king."

Danni snorted.

We followed our father out of the Council chamber to a smaller adjoining room. It had been intended for smaller audiences with one or two Observants and their petitioners, but it served our needs perfectly.

We chose the three comfiest chairs and sat. Not for the first time, I wondered why Djall had inflated his stolen body to such monstrous proportions. It can't have been very comfortable to be a zillion feet tall. How in the world had he walked through buildings without going intangible all the time?

"Never backtrack," Pariah advised, trying and failing to hide a smile. "At least not immediately. Give them time to forget before changing your words."

"And make sure you don't sound stupid," Danni added. "Seriously, that sounded like something from a bad fantasy novel."

I stuck out my tongue at her. She stuck hers out too.

Pariah watched our interaction with paternal amusement. "You would be well-advised not to do that in public," he commented dryly.

"We're not in public," Danni pointed out. She remembered why we weren't still in the Council chamber and added, "Why not?"

"What was it you said about not sounding stupid?" I teased, shoving her side.

She began to stick out her tongue, glanced at Pariah (who was obviously fighting back laughter), and retracted it. "What I was trying to say was, what did you want to talk about?"

His smile faded into an unfamiliar expression. He didn't answer for several seconds, just long enough for my heart to constrict. Please oh please don't have second thoughts….

But once Pariah Dark had made up his mind, his mind stayed made up. He wasn't wondering how to break horrible news to his children; he was trying to phrase his request.

"I know very little of this modern world," he finally said. "Next to nothing, in fact. But if I am to rule again, I need to know what happened after my reign. I need to know this new time's culture, its history, its politics, everything you can think of."

I grimaced. "I'm not sure how much we can help you with that. I'm a history buff, but most of my knowledge is of the Human World, not the Ghost Zone. I know the basics of Barrens and Borderland history, but not much else."

Not much else that was relevant, anyway. I'd done a lot of research into the War of Power and a bit into the preceding Golden Age, but Pariah had lived through those eras. He knew more about them than I ever would.

Plus it was just embarrassing to admit that I'd kind of obsessed over him for the past three years.

"It would probably be better to ask Clockwork," Danni admitted.

He shook his head. "He is busy enough already. Besides, I have no doubt that you know more than you give yourselves credit for. Have you not travelled throughout the Mortal Realm, Danielle?"

"Yeah. I've only done a little travelling through the Ghost Zone, though."

"At this point, Danielle, I need all the knowledge I can get."

"Even of the Human World?" she asked hesitantly.

"The two worlds are more alike than you would think," he reminded her. "And don't forget that most of my subjects originated as mortals."

I glanced at my twin. She shrugged. "It couldn't hurt, I guess," I mumbled.

We spent the next hour or so scheduling. I was in charge of history, since I'd done a lot of research into that line of study, and Danni would cover the political situation of modern world because she'd seen so much of it. Our 'classes' would mainly focus on the human world, but all three of us agreed to do a lot of independent research on the Ghost Zone's history and state of current affairs. We thought that Jazz, at the very least, would be interested in helping out with that aspect. Maybe we could even get an Observant to tutor us.

Actually, scratch that last thought. It would be too nervous and we'd never get anything done.

Around this point, I remembered that Pariah could do that mind meld thing with the Ancients and suggested that since they had been around even when he wasn't, maybe they could accelerate the learning process. Pariah called them in to discuss it. The Ancients told us that yes, they had been there at many of the Ghost Zone's most important moments, but they didn't know everything about the Underworld's history. They could and would speed things up a _lot_, but we'd still have to do a fair amount of research.

My twin gave them an odd look and asked, "Would you guys mind going through some of the history books? Because that would really speed things up."

Thou art canny, Shade Princess.

We took that as a yes.

Ammut would have gladly given us her memories, but she had spent most of the intervening years in the Human World. Scary sees-lady say help come from not-here. Scary sees-lady right. Master-pups from not-here. Lucky find master-pups. Only visiting. But know not-here things. Will give not-here things to master and master-pups.

There was only so much that Pariah could handle without his head exploding, so he said thanks but no thanks to Ammut's generous offer. I made a mental note to ask about the 'scary sees-lady' and directed our conversation back to the tutoring schedule.

Pariah had a third thing to learn, something that pretty much anyone could teach him. He had been locked in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep for three thousand years. There had obviously been a lot of technological and cultural change in that time. He had to learn everything from how to use a toaster to why nuclear warheads were Very Bad to the greatest hits of Elvis Presley.

Danni and I decided to split 'Modern 101' into several segments: science and tech (hopefully Tucker could cover that), new worldviews (Jazz's forte), and pop culture (which we refused to give to Sam. She's Goth. She hates pop culture stuff. Oh well. We could figure something out).

Of course, Pariah wasn't the only one who had a lot to learn. As prince and princess, Danni and I would have to discover the wonderful world of etiquette and politics. Joy. Well, at least it couldn't be worse than trig.

We had our goals. We had a rudimentary schedule. We had hope.

What we didn't have was a solution for my problems in the Human World.

* * *

><p>I really thought that the conspiracy to overthrow part of the human government would show up in this chapter. It didn't. It got pushed back to the next one, that's all. But even that is only a plan to overthrow it. You'll have to wait until chapter 12 or 13 before you see the plan in action.<p>

Any guesses on who the 'scary sees-lady' might be? Clockwork will tell us eventually, but it's fun to see your horribly wrong guesses.

There's a poll up on my profile about which story I should write next. It doesn't include the third book in this series (which shall exist, eventually) because I KNOW I'm writing that. If you have any requests, PM them to me.

-Corona


	11. Good News

We arrived back at the Keep around suppertime. By now, Danni and I were both hungry. We didn't need to eat as much as full-humans, but that doesn't mean we should let ourselves starve.

"Think we could grab sandwiches before going to see everyone?" I wondered hopefully.

Danni nodded. "The kitchen's this way. Follow me."

The kitchen was larger than FentonWorks. I gawked at it with an open mouth, taking in all the stoves and range tops and storage places and sinks and other things I didn't have names for. Note to self: show this to Tucker. He will love it here.

"This place has pretty much everything you can think of," Danni informed me. "And the thralls are great cooks."

I nodded faintly, slightly overwhelmed by the place's sheer immensity. By the Five Rivers, we had our own grocery store and catering staff. "I'm just gonna make myself a PB&J."

"Sounds good to me." Danni clapped, and a thrall appeared.

I jumped in front of her, cutting off her request. "Never mind," I told the thrall. "We'll do it ourselves." It vanished.

Danni glared. "He was going to make our supper."

I glared back. "Just because we have an army servants catering to our every whim doesn't mean that we can't- and shouldn't- do things ourselves. I know you like this whole I'm-a-princess-with-a-real-genuine-family thing, Danielle, but seriously. Take it easy."

Her neck tensed in a way that made my glare intensify. She opened her mouth, but I interrupted. "Thralls are great and all, but I think we should save them for things we don't have time for. I have time to make myself a sandwich, so I'm going to make myself a sandwich. I've been making sandwiches all my life. I don't need some servant to do it for me."

Her neck un-tensed. She flinched. Pink rose in her cheeks. "…I've been taking this a little too well, haven't I."

"Yeah."

My sister grimaced. She reached behind herself, tore out the intricate braid she'd worn for the past two weeks. Rings flared around her waist, split. Her hair, black and loose, hung behind her, unencumbered by the braid. "Sorry."

I smiled, touched her shoulder. "Apology accepted, Danni. Now where's the peanut butter?"

* * *

><p>Remember how the castle had mutated to make Tucker a new room? Well, it had altered again. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were sitting in a room with a <em>widescreen TV<em> that was playing a commercial for deodorant. The three of them were huddled on a couch, staring at something on Tucker's lap that I couldn't see. Yet another pair of thralls waited near the entrance, just in case they needed anything. A third picked up the remains of their dinners before leaving for the kitchen.

Ignoring the question of how a three thousand year-old castle could possible create a working television out of thin air, I turned my attention to my human sister. Her face was a bit puffy, but she seemed fairly composed. Still, my voice was hesitant as I asked, "You okay, Jazz?"

Her jaw tightened. Her reddened eyes blinked rapidly. "I'll heal." Her voice was rough, hoarse.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Like you said, this was coming for a long time."

"That doesn't make it any better."

She grimaced. "No, it doesn't." She forced a grin. "But like I said, I'll be fine."

"What are you guys doing?" Danni wondered, trying to change the subject.

Sam looked up. "Watching the news and conspiring to overthrow the government of the United States. Tucker's parents told us to- the part about watching the news, not about destroying the government. They were right. It's very good tonight." Her smirk was downright evil.

"Tucker's parents are here?" I asked blankly.

"Uh, no. I went onto the internet- you know, to email them, tell them I wasn't dead- and they were there too. They wanted a video chat, so I gave them a video chat. There was a bit of an issue when Ammut and Cujo started playing in the next room, but I told them that Muttsie the Labradoodle and your not-green, not-ghostly puppy Cujo did that all the time."

Ware, all ye evildoers, lest Muttsie the Labradoodle consume thee.

…Yeah. I'm not intimidated either.

"How are they holding up?" I asked quietly.

Tucker's face lit up. "Danny, I have the coolest, most amazing, most awesomely protective parents in the worlds." But he refused to say anything more. "Wait for the news, okay? You'll see."

I looked over at the TV screen. It was playing an advert for the Nasty Burger. I recognized this commercial. It wouldn't end for a while.

My twin arched a brow. "Okay then. What's on the news?"

"You shall see," my friend cackled.

The Nasty Burger ad was only halfway done, so I asked, "What's on your computer?"

"The Guys in White's website. They have orders to shoot you on sight."

"You sound _way_ too happy about that."

"You will be too," the techno-geek assured me. "Because the Whitecoats are _idiots_ incapable of thinking for themselves. This bloodthirsty little order is the first nail in their collective coffin."

"Or mine," I pointed out. "Because I'm the one they're shooting at."

Sam waved a dismissive hand. "They have terrible aim. You _know_ that. You'll be fine."

"She's got a point," Danni agreed. "But while we're on the topic of the American government, what've you got against the president? You must be really, really mad at him if you're going to overthrow the government."

Jazz's face hardened. "We don't have anything against the president, Danni," she explained, "but we have a _lot_ against the Guys in White. Don't you think it's about time they ceased to exist?"

My older sister is usually pretty gentle. She prefers negotiation to battle, psychological healing to easy fixes. It takes a lot to get on her permanent bad side. But once she's condemned you….

Expect no mercy, Guys in White. You signed your own death warrant today.

Danni's face lit up. Between me coming to live at the castle (albeit unwillingly), me bringing friends to live at the castle (also unwillingly), me finally making up my mind to tell the Ghost Zone about our heritage, and this new plan, this had been a _very _good day for her. "How're you gonna do that?"

"Sh!" Sam hissed. "The news is back on."

Tucker slammed shut his laptop and leaned forward. Danni and I squeezed onto the couch.

"The second missing child is Samantha Manson, commonly called Sam," reported Tiffany Snow, the star of Amity Park's news crew. A picture of my girlfriend appeared in the upper left corner. "Like Tucker Foley, she too left a note to her parents before vanishing into the ether."

Those two simple sentences told me everything I needed to know. The Guys in White had _not_ caught my confession on tape, nor had they been stupid enough to tell the world that Danny Fenton = Danny Phantom without proof. Stupid they might be, but they're not _that_ stupid. In other words, my secret was still a secret. The Whitecoats might know about me, but the rest of the world did not.

Of course, in the end, it didn't matter if my secret was common knowledge or not. It was common knowledge among ghost hunters, and they would do everything in their power to keep me from going back to the Human World.

I realized all that in the few seconds it took Tiffany Snow to speak two sentences.

But I had more immediate fish to fry. What in the world were my friends' parents up to? I could understand the media covering our disappearances, but hadn't expected the Foleys or Mansons to go on air.

"Your parents are on- ow!" Sam elbowed me. I shut up.

"We came home today, and Sammy wasn't there," sniffled Pamela Manson. Her husband Jeremy rubbed her back, trying and failing to comfort her. "She left us this on her pillow." She blew into a handkerchief, unfolded a scrap of paper, and began to read.

"'_Mom and Dad, _

"'_First off, calm down. I'm not eloping with my nitwit boyfriend, I haven't been kidnapped, and I definitely haven't been abducted by ghosts. I'm fine. It's just that there's been a bit of trouble with the Guys in White, and we have to go away for a while.'" _

"You told them?" I yelped.

"_Shut up!_" she hissed.

On the screen, Pamela continued reading. _"'No, I have not done anything illegal. Neither has Danny or Tucker. It's just that one of the Guys in White, a man named Agent L, has been giving Danny the evil eye, and we're scared he'll try to do something to him- or us, his friends. It's a very long story, but he's basically angry at Danny for existing. You've heard the rumors about how they use 'sympathizers' for human experimentation, right? Well, we don't want to find out the hard way whether or not that's true. _

"'_Once again, I promise that I'm fine. We'll be staying with a distant relative of Danny's. Don't worry, I promise he can afford to take care of us. We're not going to starve or freeze to death. _

"'_We'll be keeping an eye on the situation in Amity Park, and the second this blows over, we're coming back home. Until then, try not to panic. We're all a lot safer here, where L can't find us, than we are in Amity Park. I'll try and call you as soon as possible, but I don't know if this place has cell phone service. Love, Sam.'" _

"'Nitwit' is our safety word," Jeremy croaked. "If Sammy goes to- to the mall or something, she leaves a note with the word 'nitwit' in it. That way we know she hasn't been taken by ghosts."

"That's a good idea," Tucker noted. "Why don't we have safety words?"

Sam elbowed him. She'd been elbowing a lot of people lately.

"You have my deepest condolences, Mr. and Mrs. Manson," Snow assured them.

Something in Pamela's face hardened. For the first time, I saw her resemblance to her steel-souled daughter. "You should console the Guys in White," she growled. "I don't know what they've done to scare my Sammy away, but I _will_ find out."

Danni choked. She was obviously trying to fight back her wild giggles and failing miserably.

That was an excellently dramatic point for a commercial break, so the screen switched to an ad for the zoo's annual Halloween fundraiser. I ignored it.

"That's right," Sam cackled. "I sicced my parents on them."

"Your parents are gonna overthrow the Guys in White?" I giggled. "You're an evil genius, Sam. Have I ever mentioned that I love you?" I planted a big, sloppy kiss on her cheek.

She playfully swatted me away. "Once or twice, yeah. But my parents- and Tucker's, too; you missed their very dramatic vow to see L behind bars before the month was done- are just going to set the stage."

"Set the stage?" I echoed. "You guys had this planned out this morning?"

"Well, no," Tucker confessed. "I didn't expect Mom and Dad to go all crusader like this. I just needed an excuse that didn't involve your secret, and Agent L being out for your blood seemed pretty plausible. I mean, _look_ at him."

"I was mad," Sam explained. "I wanted the Whitecoats to suffer, and setting my parents on them seemed like a pretty good way to accomplish that."

Danni lost her battle against giggling and collapsed into a heap. "That- is- awesome!"

"It gets better," my girlfriend promised. "If you think that Tucker and I are evil, wait until you've heard what Jazz has planned for them."

Danni and I turned expectantly. "Fire away, sis."

Jazz told us her plan.

My jaw sagged. So simple, so brilliant, so incredibly amazing-! "Jazz, has anyone ever mentioned that you're a super genius?"

Her smile was thin and wan, but it was still a smile. "Once or twice, yeah," she quoted.

A joke! Looks like Jack and Maddie hadn't broken her- though in retrospect, I shouldn't have worried about that. Jazz is strong. It would take a lot more to shatter her.

I smirked wickedly, clasped my hands together. "Frostbite and Pyrrha's wedding will last all day tomorrow, so I can't do it then. But the next day…."

Danni, eyes flaming green, slammed her fist into her palm. "The Guys in White are going _down._"

* * *

><p>Told you they'd conspire against the government. Heck, <em>everyone's<em> conspiring against the government.

I can very much see Sam's and Tucker's parents going berserk like this. If your kid had been driven out of town by someone who is pretty obviously evil, you'd do it too. Plus they're underappreciated characters who need time to shine.

Next chapter: The long day finally ends. We don't get to see Jazz's plan in action, but more hints shall be dropped. I think. It's not written yet...

That poll is still on my profile. Vote away, folks.

-Corona


	12. An Ocean of Milk

It had been a long, long day, and I wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed for a few hours of blissful unconsciousness. But that would have to wait. There were still three things I had yet to do.

First and foremost, Danni and I had to explain to Sam, Jazz, and Tucker what we'd been up to that afternoon. I was a bit worried about how they would take the news, but they accepted it. As always, they were amazing friends.

By the Five Rivers, I am so _lucky_ to have them.

Jazz and Tucker instantly volunteered to teach Pariah about modern worldviews and technology. "If nothing else," he shrugged, "it'll help pass the time until the Whitecoats are deader than dead." My sister had nodded in agreement. She had her own reasons for wanting time to pass. She needed time to heal before thinking about what had happened today.

"You want to talk about it?" I asked her softly.

She shook her head. "Not tonight, Danny. I need sleep. Tomorrow."

"Then go to sleep," I ordered. "Seriously, Jazz, we can talk to Sam's parents without you. Promise."

She didn't seem overly convinced, but she let us persuade her to return to her room. She'd probably wake up pretty early tomorrow- she'd had quite the nap this afternoon- but she'd also gone through an exhausting day. She needed sleep.

With Jazz taken care of, Sam, Tucker, and I crowded around her laptop. "You guys don't have to do this, you know," she commented.

"I know," I grumbled, "but maybe if all three of us swear you're fine, your parents will actually believe us."

Sam snorted.

"Well, it can't hurt to try."

"Yeah…. I emailed them earlier. They know that I'll be on Skype now." Her fingers flew over the keys. "Okay, they're requesting a chat. Good." She clicked the mouse, and her parents' image appeared on the screen.

"Sammykins!" Pamela shrieked, leaning forward as though she could reach through the screen and drag her daughter back home. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Mom," my girlfriend assured her. "Like I said, we're a lot safer here than in Amity Park."

"You're certain, sweetie?" she begged.

In happier times, 'sweetie' had been Maddie's name for me. I grit my teeth against the unexpected surge of pain. Don't think about it, Fenton-Phantom. Right now, there's nothing you can do. So quit whining and listen to what she's saying.

"Yes, Mom, I'm absolutely, positively, definitely certain that I'm okay. So are Danny, Tucker, and Jazz."

Pamela noticed her daughter's companions for the first time. "Is she telling the truth, or is she just trying to reassure me?"

"Telling the truth," Tucker replied. I nodded.

She still didn't look entirely convinced, but was forced to drop the point. She took a single step backward. Her husband moved forward. "Sammy, where are you?" he asked. The agony in his voice made my heart ache.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she muttered dryly. Then she heaved a sigh. "All I can say is we're with one of Danny's distant relatives in a place that the Guys in White would never think to look. And even if they did, I have no doubt that… _Mr. Black_ can take them."

Mr. Black? I fought back giggles. Good one, Sam.

Tucker choked, doubtless imagining the Whitecoats' reaction to Pariah Dark. They would take one look at him, maybe fire a single shot, before he sicced the thralls on them. Then they'd all run screaming. It was a beautiful thought.

"Mr. Black could take them, all right," I cackled. Sam's parents gave me strange looks; perhaps I'd sounded a bit too sadistically amused, but it was _funny_. Agent L, meet Pariah Dark, King of All Ghosts, Lord of the Underworld, Prince of the Five Rivers, etc. etc. Father, this is the psychopath who stole your blood and turned my foster parents against me. You two play nice now.

…_Right…._

"Let's invite them over," Tucker suggested, only half-joking. "Because I think we could use the laughs."

Sam rolled her eyes. "What these two are trying to say is that we're safe. The Whitecoats can't find us, and even if they did, security around here is great. They couldn't even handle Mr. Black's Labradoodle Muttsie."

And the sad thing was, the probably couldn't handle her even if she was an actual Labradoodle. Except L, of course.

"When will you come home?" Jeremy asked softly.

Sam flinched. "As soon as we can, okay? Promise. We have a plan." She explained what Jazz had suggested, leaving out the bit about WHY we thought the Whitecoats would do something so phenomenally stupid. Hopefully the Mansons wouldn't ask.

They did, of course, which led to a lot of awkward evasions in the form of "it's a long and complicated story that you really wouldn't believe actually happened."

Pamela and Jeremy Manson were many things, but they were _not_ stupid. "Can't tell us, or won't?" the former snapped.

I flinched away. _My fault, all my fault…._

I was so tired of this. Bad enough that my foster-family was destroyed, possibly beyond redemption (Crown and Ring, I hoped not). Bad enough that Sam and Tucker had been driven out of their own homes. Now my girlfriend's family life was in even more jeopardy? Not if I had anything to say about it. I had a choice to make, and I had to make it fast. Which was more important, my no-longer-secret secret or Sam?

"Mom-"

Heck with it. What's a few more drops of spilled milk in an ocean? Sam has been with me since day one. I would _not _stand by and see her suffer like that.

In the end, the choice was easy. I squared my shoulders, chin held high. "I'm going ghost."

Sam's eyes bulged. "Danny, _what_-"

Rings like captive lightning flashed around my waist, split. Dry water washed over me, leaving my cells tingling. Light passed before my eyes, turning them from blue to green. "This is why we know they'll do it."

Pamela's eyes rolled back in her head. For a second I thought she was going to faint, but all she did was grip Jeremy's arm tight enough to make his hand turn white. Her husband stared at me, eyes bulging, mouth moving up and down. He collapsed backward into a chair, taking his wife with him. "What-wh-how-?"

Tucker shoved me out of the way. I fell to the floor. "You didn't see that!" the techno-geek yelled. "You're hallucinating, that's all."

Jeremy stopped babbling long enough to shoot him a filthy glare. Then he returned to incoherent spluttering.

I pushed myself back up. "Like Sam said, it's a long story. The short version is that the Guys in White have finally figured out that I'm Phantom. That's how we know they'll be stupid enough to fall for it." Rings flashed again, and I reverted to human form.

"You didn't see that either!" Tucker yelped, scooting in front of me.

"Fenton, Phantom," Pamela squeaked. "How did I not see that?" She rubbed her temples. "How did I not see that?"

"Chill, Tuck," I ordered softly. "The ghost hunters already know, so why shouldn't the Mansons?"

Sam opened her mouth, considered, closed it. She leaned back, searching for a reason.

Like I'd said, the cat was already out of the bag. The world might not know, but my enemies did. Why shouldn't my allies- or potential allies; the Mansons had never been overly fond of me- know as well?

And I was _not_ hurting Sam like that. She and Tucker had suffered enough for my sake. No more, burn it all!

I turned to the screen, shoulders squared. "Do you want the explanation now, or should we wait for later?"

The Mansons did that silent-speech thing that married couples and close twins can do. "Later," Jeremy rasped. Poor guy. I'd probably nearly given him heart failure. He hesitated, glanced once more at his wife, and asked, "Are you certain you'll be safe? With the Guys in White, I mean. They _are_ ghost hunters, and you _are…._"

"Technically only half-ghost," I corrected him gently.

"…What?" The poor man had bypassed confusion for absolute befuddlement.

"To make a long, long story short, I'm adopted."

"Yeah…" Sam pushed me aside. I, good boyfriend that I am, sat obediently and let her take over. "So like I said, everyone here is safe. The Guys in White have been after him for years, he's still in one piece. He'll be fine. So will the rest of us- the Whitecoats aren't about to get past Danny Phantom." She looked so awkward saying that. She, too, had been living a double life for the past three and a half years. It wasn't quite as severe as mine, but it was still enough to make her uncomfortable when the two lives collided. "So, unless Danny does something _phenomenally stupid-_" Cue glare. I shrugged sheepishly, flinched away. "-we'll be fine."

"Right." Pamela nodded faintly. "I… we'll talk to you tomorrow. Good night, Sammykins."

"Don't call me that," she muttered, but her parents had already hung up.

The second their images vanished, Sam and Tucker whirled to face me. "What was that for!" he yelled.

"That was stupid, Danny," Sam agreed. Her expression was downright thunderous. "Just because you're in a bad mood-"

I flung up my hands. "I didn't want you to get hurt, okay? For Pete's sake, Sam, I _love_ you. What was I supposed to do, let them chew you out _again_?"

"Considering that you've been keeping this a secret for over _three years-_"

"But the secret's out! The ghost hunters already know. The Whitecoats have orders to shoot me on sight!"

"So now you're pulling a complete one-eighty, telling _everyone_ and their _grandmother_?"

"Of course not," I snapped back. "Have you _seen_ my fan girls? They're crazier than Plasmius. But Sam, _why should I _keep this secret from them? Do you _want _to keep lying to them?"

She looked away.

"I know I should have told you and Tucker, but it was kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision. Believe me, Sam, I had no intention of spilling the beans until your mom looked at you like that and I got so fed up with hurting people." I swallowed. "I'm sorry that it turned out like this, but I don't regret telling them."

Sam slumped. Tucker rested a hand on her shoulder. "Does this mean you'll tell my parents, too?" he asked softly. I had expected him to do that. Out of all of us, he had maintained the strongest ties with his family. He had a much harder time keeping our double lives secret than Sam or I did because of that.

"Of course." I barked a laugh. "The cat's out, Tuck. It's out."

He grinned, relieved. "Thanks, man. Give me the computer, Sam."

But the Foleys weren't on Skype. Presumably they were out torturing Whitecoats or rallying angry pitchfork-wielding mobs or something equally wholesome and enjoyable.

Tucker heaved a sigh. "I didn't really expect them to hang around," he admitted, "but I kind of wanted to…."

"We can call them before the wedding," I assured him. "And after, if that doesn't work out. And if _that_ doesn't work out, you can show them the Labradoodle."

That made him laugh, just as I'd intended. His laughter widened into a yawn. "Whoa. Didn't see that coming."

"I did," I told him. "We've all had a really, really long day."

Sam nodded. "I'm hitting the sack. See you in the morning, guys." She pecked my cheek, gently punched Tucker's arm, and wandered off to bed. "Night."

"That sounds like a great idea," Tucker agreed. "You gonna sleep too, Danny?"

I shook my head. "There's one more thing I have to do."

My friend realized what I was talking about and grimaced. "Want me to stay up for moral support?"

I don't deserve these guys. I really don't. "No thanks, Tuck. It's not like I'm talking with them face to face."

"If you say so. Night, Danny."

"Night, Tucker. And thanks."

Earlier that day (it seemed so long ago), I had promised to email Jack and Maddie with an explanation for my 'crimes.' I'd originally intended to use Fenton's account, but Jazz's plan made that a bad idea. it was, then.

How to begin, how to begin…? What did you say to the parents who had hunted and hated and hurt you for years?

_I know you don't believe me, but everything in this letter is true. _

There. That was a nice start. Or was it too confrontational? I should have asked Tucker to stay. Writing is _not_ my forte. It's not his either, but two heads are better than one.

_I should have written this a long time ago,_ I typed, _and have no excuse for not doing so. All I can say is that I'm sorry for not explaining everything before. _

_There are three things that you accuse me of: kidnapping Mayor Montez, stealing jewels, and causing property damage. _

_Mayor Montez was overshadowed by a ghost named Walker. Walker despises me. He wanted to make my_- What to call it? Half-life, afterlife, life…? _–existence as miserable as possible, so he took over the mayor's body, grabbed me, and put on a nice little show for the media. If you ask Montez, he'll tell you that he can't actually remember being kidnapped. _

_I did steal the jewels, but not voluntarily. I was being controlled by an ancient artifact called the Slave's Chain Crystal, which enabled its wielder to command ghosts. The crystal is now destroyed, and I don't think that any similar artifacts exist. _Note to self: ask Pariah and Clockwork about that. _In all honesty, I didn't realize that I was even being controlled until my friends saved me from the crystal's control. Even now, my memories of the event are pretty blurry. _

_The property damage is inevitable. I fight ghosts, ghosts who _shoot_ at me. If I have a choice between getting hit by an ecto-blast and letting the ecto-blast hit a building, I'll let the ecto-blast hit the building. Not to mention that my aim isn't perfect. Everyone misses, and a lot of ghosts are good at dodging. Like I said, the property damage is unavoidable, but I do everything in my power to keep it to a minimum. _

_It's doubtful that you'll believe this, but that doesn't mean I'm not telling the truth. Hopefully one day you'll realize that. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Danny Phantom _

* * *

><p>When I started this chapter, I had no idea that this would happen. It just... did. But this WAS a logical next step.<p>

Can anyone figure out what their crazy plan is? Internet cookies to anyone who guesses correctly!

-Corona


	13. Opening Eyes

The wedding of Frostbite and Pyrrha lasted all day, from early morning to sunset. It was filled with disparate marital rituals from both their peoples that shouldn't have been compatible but somehow were- just like the lovebirds themselves.

And speaking of the lovebirds… everyone always talks about how radiant the bride is on her wedding day. They never mention that the groom, too, glows with joy- and that when their hands meet, grasp, hold, it's impossible to look away. Their smiles when the priest pronounced them husband and wife… I will remember that scene until the end of time. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

But despite what Danni says, I did _not_ cry. _She _did, but I didn't. She's just projecting her own tears onto me, that's all.

…Oh, who am I kidding? I cried, but only a little. You would have cried too, it was just that gorgeous, and I'd been through a lot of emotional strain recently. Of course, I probably would have sniffled once or twice even if I'd never heard of Project A.N.I.E.L.- it was downright amazing- but the (small) amount of tears was due in part to emotional overload.

It was nice to have something like this happen. Life and the afterlife went on, even when the world was upside down and inside out.

But at least I wasn't alone. Frostbite was crying, too, big crocodile tears of joy as he clutched his new wife's hand. Beaming, he picked her up and planted a big, wet kiss on her lips. Everyone in the room- yetis, salamanders, diplomats- burst into jubilant applause.

"All hail the King of Fire!" someone cried. "All hail the Queen of Ice!"

Danni and I repeated the sentiments, whistling and cheering as, hand in hand and heart in heart, the newlyweds walked down the aisle, out the door, and toward the party of the century.

"That was…" choked Danni. I nodded. It had been a perfect wedding. It would have been perfect even if they were a pair of eloping commoners, without the trappings of a royal extravaganza, they loved each other so much.

"I wish Father could have seen this," she murmured.

I glanced around, instinctively searching for anyone who might have heard that, but everyone was too wrapped up in Pyrrha and Frostbite. Then, content that no one could interpret her bizarre statement, I nodded.

He had considered coming in disguise- he'd known both their parents and had actually met the newlyweds when they were children- but had eventually decided against it. Pyrrha and her new husband were taking the news about him remarkably well, but didn't want to push his luck. Besides, he had to learn about computers and the Internet from Tucker.

Danni and I lingered a few minutes, sampling the wedding feast, listening to the laughter and swapping stories with everyone we met. But we couldn't stay long. I'd promised Tucker to tell his parents my secret before the day was out, and I keep my promises. That meant I had to get back before they went to sleep.

So we said our goodbyes and flew away, back to the castle we now called home. "Are you sure you want to do this, Danny?" my sister asked. "Because it's a lot easier to tell them later than it is to make them forget."

"I'm sure." It felt so _right,_ so _good._ Tucker deserved happiness. "Like I said, if my enemies know who I am, why shouldn't my allies? Besides, Sam's parents already know about me."

"I suspect that Mr. and Mrs. Foley will ask a lot more questions than the Mansons."

"I do too," I admitted. Tucker's parents had accepted the existence of ghosts right away. Sam's had spent over a week hysterically trying to deny that the flying white-haired kid, his furry man-wolf friend, and the assorted green people in guards' uniforms were anything but a publicity stunt. Then, unable to deny it any longer, they had wandered around in mute shock for a couple days before snapping back to reality and vowing not to let the ghost ruin their lives.

"Do you have answers for them?" she demanded.

"I think so, yeah."

"And these answers are…?"

"The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." A pause. "Except about Dan. That can probably wait."

Danni gave me a flat stare. "So you'll tell them about the time travel, the cloning, Djall, et cetera?"

"If they ask, yeah."

"Good luck with that."

"Gee, sis, you sound so confident."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. But don't worry, Danni. Tucker's parents are tough. Besides, I really doubt that they'll ask anything that pertains to time travel- at least not yet. In a couples of days, yeah, but not now."

She still didn't look particularly convinced, but it was _my_ funeral, so she kept her mouth shut.

Tucker was waiting for us in the room with the huge TV. He had already logged on to Skype, as had his parents. Lola Foley was telling her son about the Whitecoats' reaction to their anti-GiW campaign.

I met his gaze. His face hardened. He nodded. "Mom, Dad, remember how I said Danny had something to show you when he got back? Well, he's back."

Now that the moment of truth was actually upon me, I began to get nervous. I'd acted on impulse while telling Sam's parents; I hadn't had time to think or feel. I'd only had time to _do_. Now, though, I was fully aware that in a couple minutes, I would knowingly and willingly betray the secret I'd worked so hard and so long to keep hidden. It was a daunting thought….

…But I've never backed down from challenges before. Why start now?

I sat next to Tucker. His parents greeted me- I was in human form, of course, or else they would have asked their son what in the worlds Danny Phantom was doing here- and fell silent, waiting for my confession. Their expressions were curious. They knew that whatever I had to show them had something to do with why the Guys in White were hunting me- and, through me, their child.

Where to begin, where to begin? The story of Danny Fenton-Phantom was so long, so complicated, so convoluted…. Well, the beginning was a good enough place to start.

"Almost twenty years ago, Agent L of the Guys in White gave an ectoplasm sample to Jack and Maddie Fenton." No mention of where that sample had come from, not yet- that was a tale for another time. "The Whitecoats wanted them to invent a way for replicating ectoplasm. Their solution was to clone a child from the sample. Two children, actually, a boy and a girl, with a human mother and a ghost father."

Lola's eyes went wide with horror. Her husband scowled, face dark with anger. "They experimented on a pair of children?"

Deep breaths, Fenton-Phantom. "Yeah."

"Those-" Lola elbowed her husband in the gut, cutting off what was undoubtedly an expletive-filled rant about my former parents.

"One of the experiments, the girl, was unstable. They 'terminated' her- or at least they tried. Someone rescued her. Long story behind that- I'll probably tell you later, but for now we have to focus on the boy. He survived… but when they took their first blood samples from him, they found that he was human. Something had happened to his ghost DNA.

"He couldn't produce ectoplasm, so the experiment was dubbed a failure. Agent L wanted Jack and Maddie to eliminate him, but the kid was human now. They couldn't murder a human child- but they couldn't throw a 'half-ghost mini-monster' into the foster care system. So they did the only thing they could do. They kept Project Artificial Natal Infant Ectoplasmic Life-form- A.N.I.E.L.- and told the world that he was their son."

I saw it in their faces, the sick dawning horror, the denial, the awful pity. "Oh, Danny," whispered Lola. Her eyes had filled with tears.

"And now they want you back," Maurice growled. "Don't worry, Danny. I don't _care_ how you were born. You're still Tucker's best friend." He punched a fist into his palm. "We'll take them down for you."

At that moment, I was wildly, insanely jealous of Tucker. Flames between, his parents were _amazing_. Admittedly, my own biological parents were pretty cool themselves, but I hadn't been raised by them. Tucker, though, had been with these guys since day one.

"You guys… you're incredible," I mumbled, ducking my head. Then I sucked in a deep breath and added, "But that's not the end of the story. I'm going ghost."

White rings. Dry water. Green eyes.

Dead silence. Then, very softly, "Oh."

"Yeah," I muttered. "The experiment worked. Sort of. I didn't… I couldn't do this until I was fourteen."

"_Oh."_

"Dad?" Tucker's voice was worried. "You okay? You haven't said anything."

His father swallowed. One hand gripped the shirt over his heart, hands digging into flesh. His face was very pale beneath his dark skin. "I-I'm fine. Just surprised, that's all. Surprised." His hand tightened one last time before he forced it to his side. "Danny?"

"Yeah. It's me, Mr. Foley." I summoned the rings again, reverted to my human form. "It's always been me."

"So that's where you've been running off to all this time," whispered Lola. "You've been helping him hunt ghosts."

"Yeah," my friend replied.

His mother burst into tears. Tucker, Maurice, and I nearly jumped out of our respective skins. Maurice grabbed his wife's shoulders, hugged her close. "It's all right, honey," he whispered, stroking her hair.

"It's not all right," she sobbed. "How could we not notice that our baby was hunting ghosts?"

Tucker coughed. "I kind of did everything in my power-"

"That's no excuse!" she cried.

"Mom-"

She lunged forward, face almost touching the computer screen. "Did they hurt you?" she demanded. "Did the ghosts hurt you?"

Tucker opened his mouth but couldn't answer- which, of course, was answer enough.

"Um…." I had no idea what to do. As I've said several times, emotions were NOT my forte. Neither were hysterical mothers. "It's my fault, Mrs. Foley. I _begged _him not to tell-"

"That's still no excuse!"

"And we have a really good doctor!" I babbled.

That only made her cry harder. Both Foley males shot me death glares. I flinched.

"Danny," said Tucker, "you're my best friend and I love you like a brother, but I think that this is now Foley Family Business."

I got the hint. Metaphorical tail between my legs, I slunk out of the room.

"How'd it go?" asked Jazz. She had taken refuge in the library (surprise, surprise) and looked much better than she had yesterday. It's amazing what time and a good night's sleep will do.

I moaned, buried my head in my hands. "I think that Mrs. Foley is having a midlife crisis. She's probably going to need therapy from you pretty soon."

Her smile became forced. "Oh."

I sank into the chair opposite her, spilled the entire miserable story of yet _another _family suffering because of me. She listened with a steadily growing wince. "In other words, it could have gone a lot worse, but it could also have gone a heck of a lot better."

A thrall wandered into the library. "Highness," it rasped, "Master Foley requests your presence."

"I'll come too," Jazz volunteered, correctly interpreting the expression on my face. "Come on, Danny."

Lola looked a lot better. Her tears had dried up, leaving nothing but reddened eyes and salty trails on her face. She was blowing into a tissue as Jazz and I entered the TV room, but she still managed to smile weakly at us. "I'm sorry, Danny. Hello, Jasmine."

"Hi, Mrs. Foley," my sister greeted. Then, very gently, "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I was pretty horrified myself," my sister continued. "I didn't always know about Danny's powers. He'd been hunting ghosts for months by the time I got in on the secret. It was… it was _awful_." She shuddered.

"It _is _awful." Surprisingly, it wasn't Mrs. Foley who said this, but her husband. It seemed that Lola wasn't the only self-proclaimed 'failed' parent.

Jazz nodded. A silent message passed between the three adults: if you ever need an ear, I'll be there.

Tucker's not the only one with awesome relatives.

"Okay," Lola said quietly. She tossed her tissue into the trash. "I'm better now, so could you please tell us what's going on?"

* * *

><p>Poor Foleys. And poor Danny. Oh well. At least he had that nice wedding to provide him with emotional succor.<p>

That poll is still up on my profile. If you care about my next full-length fic (aside from the third book in this series, which still needs a name), feel free to vote on it.

-Corona


	14. Amazing, Amazing Parents

Somewhere between "accident in the Fenton Portal" and "illegal cloning attempts by our half-ghost evil mayor," the adult Foleys slipped into a kind of waking coma. Tucker took one look at his father's face and elbowed me in the ribs. "I think you broke them," he hissed.

I blushed. "Sorry." Don't ask who I was apologizing to- it could have been anyone with the surname Foley. It might even have been Jazz, though I somehow doubt that.

Maurice sort of snapped out of it. "No, no, go on. You were just saying that… your clone… is actually your… long-lost, time-traveling twin sister?"

The look on the poor thing's face made me flinch, grimace, and blush all at once. Yeah…. Maybe my half-life was a bit _too_ weird, even for the tough Foleys. "Yeah, that's Danni." He looked even more confused (which I hadn't thought was physically possible at this point), so I elaborated, "Short for Danielle. Danielle Natalia Fenton-Phantom."

"Oh." He seemed marginally less traumatized.

Jazz chose that moment to cut in. "I know you're very curious about this, Mr. and Mrs. Foley, but I think you're suffering from… 'weirdness overload' isn't a technical term, but it's the best description I can think of."

Lola shot her a smile of almost pathetic gratitude. "You're right," she mumbled. "I… we'll call back in the morning, Tucker, honey. We can…." She shuddered, steeled herself. "We can continue talking then."

"Just not around lunch," her son replied. He rubbed his palms together. An evil smirk dominated his face. "We have _plans_ for lunch."

As the mother of every teenage boy on the face of the Earth knows, _plans_ are rarely good. Lola stiffened. "What kind of plans?" she demanded.

Tucker, realizing that he'd made a mistake, held up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. "It's a way for us to get back to Amity Park ASAP."

"What kind of plans, Tucker?"

As every teenage boy on the face of the Earth knows, when your mother starts talking in that tone of voice, you tell her your plans. Tucker, though he was not technically on the face of the Earth anymore, told her exactly how we would be spending our lunch hour.

Mrs. Foley looked ready to faint. "Tucker, that's- that's-" Words failed her.

"It's insane!" her husband burst out.

"It's the _Guys in White,_" he justified. "You know, the world's worst ghost hunters? You have them on one side and Danny Phantom- _two _Phantoms, plus an army of thralls and probably half the Ancients- on the other. There's just no contest. We'll be fine, I swear!"

"What's an An- no." Lola squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want to know." She opened her eyes, met Jazz's gaze. "You're a responsible adult. Do you really think this- this insanity- has a chance of working?"

My sister wisely didn't mention that she'd come up with the idea. She merely nodded, firm and resolute. "Danny is tough enough on his own. With backup like this- trust me, the Ancients are nothing to laugh at- he's as invincible as anyone can be."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful," Lola cautioned me. "You're playing with fire, Danny."

Once again, I found myself jealous of Tucker. He had both parents. Sure, Pariah was pretty cool, now that we'd dragged him kicking and screaming out of his sulk, but….

I'd seen images from Natalia's life in Clockwork's viewscreens. She'd been a tough lady- she'd been martyred by terrorists, and if that wasn't proof of toughness I didn't know what was- but underneath it all, she'd had a mother's soul. She would have let me do this, confident in my ability to escape unscathed, but she would also have given me the look on Lola Foley's face: concern and love and a bit of pride, only magnified a thousand times because she was my mother and I was her son.

_Knock it off, Fenton-Phantom. You've got a father, remember? And Jazz, and Pandora, and Pyrrha, and Dora, and Danni. Not mothers, but family. You have a _family.

A family that was missing a mother, but I forced that thought out of my mind. I had more than I'd ever dared to hope for. It was selfish to want anything more.

Besides, that would require Pariah finding himself a queen, and I was _not_ ready for half-siblings.

"I'll be careful, Mrs. Foley," I promised.

She nodded. "Good night, Danny, Jasmine. Good night, Tucker. I love you." She blew him a kiss.

Tucker beamed back at her. "Love you too, Mom, Dad. I'll talk with you tomorrow."

Jazz met my gaze. Her expression was neutral, but her eyes were filled with utter misery. I flinched. "You sure you're okay, sis?"

"Yeah," she murmured. "Just…."

"_Did_ you want to talk about it?"

Her lips quirked. "I have been. Sam is a surprisingly good listener."

For once, I got the message. "Okay, then."

"Let's find her," Tucker suggested. "Sam, I mean. She might want to talk with her parents, too, if only to see if they've recovered from yesterday." He gave me a dry look as he said it, making me blush.

Scaring your future in-laws almost into a heart attack: _not _a way to make them like you. "Yeah," I mumbled. Then, "Hang on. Let me see if I can get a thrall to do it." Guilty thoughts of yesterday's confrontation with Danni- just because you can use a thrall doesn't mean you should- welled up in my mind. I quashed them ruthlessly. Danni could command the thralls almost as well as Pariah could. I needed the practice.

It took a few tries, but I finally managed to send a thrall after her. Then the thrall ruined it by pretty much kidnapping my girlfriend. It literally grabbed her shoulders and, without giving her time to figure out what was going on, transported her back to the rec room. She was attempting to punch it when the two of them appeared.

"I have done as you commanded, Highness," it rasped.

Sam shot me the death glare. My cheeks burned. "Um- thanks. Maybe next time you could, um, just tell her that I'd like to see her instead of picking her up and dragging her here?"

The thrall's face fell (don't ask me how a skull can emote. I don't know either). Great. Now I'd hurt its feelings. "You did good," I tried to assure it. "It was my bad. I should have been more specific. So good work, soldier." I thumped its back.

The thrall's face brightened (again, I have no idea how a bone can do that. It just could). It saluted proudly before vanishing into the ether.

Sam shoved my shoulder, but she was smiling. "Softie," she teased. The smile dropped from her face. "Care to explain why that guy swooped out of nowhere, grabbed me, and brought me here without a word of warning?"

"It was Tucker's idea."

"It was _not!_" he cried indignantly.

"Actually, it was," Jazz pointed out. "But it was Danny's idea to send a thrall for you."

"_What_ was Tucker's idea?"

"We just finished talking with my parents," he explained, "and I thought that maybe now that yours have had a chance to adjust, you'd want to talk with them?"

Sam considered, decided that this was a good enough reason to interrupt whatever she'd been doing. "I probably should. How'd your parents react, Tucker?"

"They were good until Danny met Danni. Or until Danni met Danny. It depends on how you look at it."

So once again we crowded around the computer while Sam logged into her account.

No answer. Her parents weren't available.

Sam frowned slightly, switched to her email address. Sure enough, between several messages from random classmates who had noticed we were missing, she found a letter from her parents.

_Sam, we don't pretend to know what's going on or how what you showed us last night is even possible. Even now I wonder if it was some kind of dream or stress-induced hallucination (your father says it isn't, because he experienced it too). But it seems to be true, and we have to accept that, no matter how impossible it seems._

_We have a few questions. First, HOW? Second, where in the worlds are you? Danny mentioned being adopted, and we know that you're staying with one of his relatives- HIS relatives, not his and Jasmine's. Are you staying with a relative from the Fenton or Phantom side of the family? Either way, be careful. Next, how did the Guys in White find out? Do Jack and Maddie know? I don't think so, because they don't seem like very good actors, but Jeremy says that there's no way they couldn't have. Are they allied with the Guys in White, enemies, or simply clueless? And speaking of the Guys in White, if they know that Danny is Phantom, why haven't they told the world? Is it because of a lack of proof, or do they have some other, ulterior motive? _

_On another, more pleasant note, we've been fairly successful organizing protestors. Your grandmother's knitting group has a surprising number of connections, as do your father and I. The Foleys also know many influential people- I think they've convinced everyone they work with to flood the streets today. Of course, it helps that the Guys in White have never been popular, competent, or intelligent. It also helps that Agent L looks like an escaped axe murderer. _

"Can't argue with that," I muttered.

_We'll be on our cell phones because we have to stay with the picketers today. Yes, we're camping out in front of the Guys' headquarters. I called in some friends from CNN and such to cover the story- the Guys in White are funded by the U.S. government, and that makes this national news. I'm sorry, Sam. I know now that you probably don't want too much publicity because the more people in Amity, the more people who might learn about your boyfriend, but I called them in before I knew that and it would be too suspicious to send them off now. They should arrive sometime tomorrow. _

"Your mom has friends at CNN?" Tucker asked, quirking a brow.

Sam shrugged. "Yeah. She doesn't see them very often, but they keep in touch over the phone and stuff. Why?"

My friend's smile became downright devilish. "The Plan will be much, much more effective if there are already nationally renowned reporters in town."

Sam's answering smirk was equally evil. "Good point. We can't have them there when it happens, but it's best to get them the footage ASAP."

I added a somewhat maniacal cackle, just for the fun of it. Everyone else joined in, even Jazz.

That, of course, was when Danni chose to stick her head into the rec room. She gave us a very, very nervous look. "Do I want to know?"

"Come and read the email Sam's parents sent her," I advised. "Her mom has friends in CNN. Do you know what that means?"

"That we can get the footage out to the entire nation faster than we anticipated?"

As I've mentioned several times before, Danni is smarter than me. I slumped. "Spoilsport."

My twin gave me a tiny grin before cutting loose with her own maniacal cackle. That, of course, set the rest of us off again.

Once the mania was out of our systems, we returned our attention to the email.

_Since we can hardly bring our laptops to the protest, we need you to call us on our cell phones. We know you can't explain everything then- if I was you, I wouldn't want to risk being overheard discussing your boyfriend- but could you at least answer a couple of the more innocuous questions? And don't think that not being able to say everything is an excuse to avoid calling us, young lady. We have a right to know you're unharmed. _

_We love you, Sam. Call soon. _

_-Mom (and Dad) _

"How come my parents aren't out with the picketers?" Tucker whined.

"How should I know?" Sam replied.

"They were probably waiting for you to call again," Jazz said quietly. "Sam's parents got an explanation, however rudimentary, last night. Yours didn't. They felt obligated to stand by until they knew more of what was going on."

That made sense. It also reminded me of something I had to do. So, as Sam dialed the numbers on her cell phone, I grabbed for the computer and logged into Danny Phantom's email account.

Fan mail, fan mail, death threat from the Guys in White, death threat from Valerie, fan mail, fan mail… lots more fan mail….

My shoulders slumped. I went through the list again, searching for the letter I desperately wanted to see, but it wasn't there.

Maybe on Danny Fenton's account? Not really believing it but willing to try, I logged on there.

Homework from Lancer (and also a concerned little note about 'are you okay? Is there anything to do to help? I'll be with the picketers if you need me'), a few letters from my curious classmates…. Once again, the thing I searched for so desperately wasn't there.

Jack and Maddie Fenton hadn't written back.

I flinched. Okay, I hadn't expected them to, but seeing the proof of it still hurt.

There was only one thing to do: rewrite the email, send it off, and pray that this time, maybe they would listen.

* * *

><p>I wonder if my parents would do something awesome like that. Probably not, as I have no intention of irritating the Man that much, but... Would yours?<p>

Poll is still up. Please vote if you haven't yet.

Next chapter: We finally see the plan. Then the plan goes wrong.

Merry Christmas! -Corona


	15. The Plan

Jazz's Plan depended on three factors.

First, the Guys in White were idiots. Even the Box Ghost had more common sense than they did- and he haunts boxes. It's honestly a miracle they haven't already been disbanded, they're that incompetent. Sam thinks that the only reason they're still around is because Vlad knows I hate them and bribed some higher-up to keep them open.

Second, my secret was still, for all intents and purposes, a secret. Let me repeat that, because it's important and you'll be quizzed later: _my secret was still a secret._ The Whitecoats might know, the Mansons and Foleys and Fentons might know, but to the universe at large, Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were two very different people. They had absolutely nothing to do with each other, save that both were in regular contact with Jack and Maddie.

In other words, in the eyes of the law and public, Danny Fenton was a regular human being with full human rights. He was protected. Phantom wasn't- Vlad had the power to outlaw shooting at me, but of course he didn't. There had been several protests over that, but the fruit loop didn't budge.

Third, the Guys in White had orders to shoot me on sight. But their orders hadn't differentiated between Danny Phantom, whom they shot at whenever they got the chance, and Danny Fenton, a human, who they _couldn't_ fire at without some very pleasant (for me, at least. Not for them) consequences.

But like I said, they're stupid. They have orders to attack Danny Phantom, which, in their minds, means that they have orders to attack Danny _Fenton._ Fenton, who is protected by laws that even Plasmius can't overturn.

And best of all, they _won't be able_ to explain their actions. A proclamation "Danny Fenton is secretly Danny Phantom" would be met with tranquilizers and straightjackets. But just in case someone DOES decide that maybe they're onto something… well, we were prepared for that, too. Jazz always says that it's best to nip things in the bud, and that's exactly what I'm going to do.

At 10:30 in the morning, we enacted Phase One. A silent, invisible army of thralls washed through the Fenton Portal, into Amity Park. They flew to restaurants, waiting for an armed, uniformed Whitecoat or two to stop by for lunch.

Danni, Tucker, a thrall, and I were waiting on the roof of a random apartment building. Danni was there for backup, just in case Murphy's Law held true and something blew up in our collective faces. Tucker was on camera duty- he would record the Whitecoat's attack of an innocent teenage boy. The thrall would alert us when one of its brethren found a suitable victim. Sam had gone to her home- her parents and the Foleys were there, and she wanted to speak with them in person. Jazz was back at the Keep with Pariah, teaching him various things about modern life.

"How's my disguise?" Tucker asked.

"I barely recognize you," Danni assured him.

"Ditto," I agreed.

The techno-geek had abandoned his usual getup for something Sam would wear: black cargo pants with way too many zippers, dark gray muscle shirt, a couple deep purple belts, and dreadlocks. A fake nose ring (I'd phased it in for him) studded his left nostril. He'd even discarded his glasses in favor of brown contacts.

The Guy in White wouldn't pay any attention to him. He knew what Tucker Foley looked like (or so I assumed); this guy looked nothing like Tucker Foley. Besides, he'd be too busy trying to kill me to pay attention to the random bystander with a camera.

Our thrall (Tucker had named it Billy Bob) rasped, "Master Foley, Highnesses, one of my kinsmen has spotted two white-clad men at the Nasty Burger."

_Perfect._ Two agents shooting at an innocent boy was even better than one.

I nodded. "Thank you, and thank your brethren, too." To Tucker and Danni, I added, "Ready to rumble?"

"Ready to rumble," they confirmed.

Phase Two: Get Tucker and his PDA (which also functioned as a camera) into the restaurant of choice without arousing suspicion. Let him and the Whitecoats get settled in. Meanwhile, the thralls could surround the Nasty Burger. This was partly because I was paranoid, but mostly so they could scout for other Guys in White. We didn't want our targets getting reinforcements.

Also, it was the Nasty Burger. The sauce was highly combustible. I sent a dozen guards to make sure that the sauce didn't overheat. It wasn't likely that our targets would hit the boiler by mistake, but I didn't want to take any chances.

Four minutes passed. Tucker, burger and fries in hand, trotted to a conveniently located table. The Whitecoats discussed something- probably me- over their greasy meals.

Time for Phase Three.

In an alley behind the restaurant, I split in half. One duplicate remained in Phantom form. The other flashed back to Fenton.

"Good luck," Danni murmured in Fenton's- my- ear. She and the Phantom duplicate phased through the wall, into the Nasty Burger.

The real me- the human- sucked in a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and pushed open the door.

No one paid attention, of course. They were too focused on their food or their conversation or their work to glance up at yet another newcomer. Well, that would change.

Danny Fenton was known for being a klutz. It was perfectly in-character for him to trip over his own feet and shout "OW!" at the top of his lungs.

_That_ attracted everyone's attention. Especially the Whitecoats'.

Through Phantom's eyes, I watched their reaction. For a long, long moment they were perfectly still, unable to believe that their prey had literally walked right into their firing range. Their expressions were pretty funny, actually. Danni had to fight back a giggle.

Then comprehension lit their faces, the knowledge that this was an opportunity like they'd never had before and would never get again.

The taller, more muscular one got out of his chair first. "FREEZE, FREAK!" he bellowed, brandishing a gun.

I froze. My eyes riveted on the firearm. Anyone could see the abject terror on my face.

Several seats away, Tucker turned his PDA and began to film.

The second Whitecoat wasn't content with me freezing in terror. He grabbed his own ecto-gun, aimed, fired.

Screaming, I dove aside.

Everyone else was frozen. These people- _witnesses_- had come here for a cheap and easy meal. They _hadn't_ come to see some kid get shot at, especially when the people doing the shooting had notoriously bad aim and an infamous disregard of other peoples' safety. If your lunch hour had suddenly warped into something from a horror story, you'd be frozen too.

"I said freeze!" the first agent yelled. He fired at me.

I rolled aside, barely avoiding the green-white laser. "Why are you shooting at me?" I wailed. My voice was strained. The witnesses would think that I was trying to hide back tears or hysterical shrieking. Those who knew me would realize that I was fighting to hide back laughter at how flawlessly the Plan was working. "I haven't done anything!"

It's not funny, Fenton-Phantom, I chided myself. These people around you are genuinely terrified- someone charged with their protection just started _shooting at_ an innocent kid. Laugh later, when these poor saps are out of therapy.

"Why are you shooting at me?" I repeated. My eyes swam with fake tears. It was a trick Frostbite had taught me: make itsy bitsy ice crystals by your lower eyelid and melt them. No one will know that you're not really crying, especially if you're supposed to be a normal human boy.

The Whitecoats didn't answer my teary plea. They just kept shooting at me. Their shots blasted into the window, propelling glass outward. Tucker and a couple other people who'd sat down in the line of fire ducked, barely dodging the laser lights.

I no longer needed to hold back laughter. This wasn't funny anymore. Any second now, people would get hurt.

The Phantom duplicate flew up through the roof. Then he pulled a one-eighty and dove, intangible, into the fray. "What the heck is going on here?"

Once again, the Whitecoats' expressions changed to comical disbelief. The first looked wildly from me to me. The other just gawked, mouth working silently.

"They're shooting at me!" Fenton wailed. "I just walked in for a burger and they started shooting at me!"

Phantom's mouth narrowed to a thin line. He floated between the agents and me/himself, a half-human shield. Then he held up his arms, palms facing out, in the universal gesture of pacification. "Okay, guys, drop the weapons."

That shocked them- or at least the second, smaller agent- out of it. Yelling an incoherent something that might have been a battle cry, he charged at me (both mes), firing wildly. His partner, after nearly jumping out of his skin, followed suit.

Neither version of me was particularly impressed. Phantom, looking supremely bored, formed a shield. Both the shots and the ones who had fired them bounced off. The lasers collided with some booths and tables. The agents fell backwards, landing on their butts in an undignified heap.

But like all good Whitecoats, they had more than just those weapons. The first grabbed at his ecto-pistol. The other tried throwing what looked like a Jack-o'-Nine-Tails at Phantom-me's face. It burst into flame the second it left his hand, leaving me even less impressed than before.

Not that I was surprised by this pitiful display of incompetence. They were the Guys in White, for pity's sake. They couldn't even take down ol' Boxy.

Two quick punches, and they were down for the count. Just to be safe, though, I covered them with sticky goop powerful enough to hold back a rampaging dragon (I'm speaking from experience here).

Phantom turned to Fenton, who was in the middle of a lovely spaz session ("They just tried to kill me! They just tried to kill me! Holy guacamole, _they just tried to KILL me!_"), and commented, "You should probably report this to the cops. I'm pretty sure that shooting at someone in the middle of a crowded restaurant is illegal." Phantom saluted and flew off before the fans recovered from their stupefaction. They were used to ghost attacks, not Guys in White going inexplicably berserk.

"I'm not going to the cops!" Fenton shrieked. "The ghost cops just tried to kill me! Who knows what the human cops will do?"

That, and I didn't have time to deal with this legal stuff. I'd be busy enough helping Pariah. Twenty-something eyewitnesses and a video tape should be enough to destroy the Guys in White, even without my help.

Above the roof, Phantom vanished, was reabsorbed into my human self.

"Phantom!" I yelled, gesturing wildly at the ceiling. "Don't go! What if they have backup?"

"If you think they have backup, kid," said the cook, "you'd better scram before that backup makes an appearance."

I didn't manage to blanch, but my expression was sufficiently horrified anyways. "You're right." He wasn't. The thralls would make sure of that. But he didn't know that. "Thanks!" I spun on my heel, darted towards the door.

The cook had a point. I didn't want to be here for the aftermath, because the police would ask too many questions and who knew how Vlad would use this situation? I doubted he'd let me out of his sight until he, at least, knew exactly what I'd been up to these past few days. It wouldn't happen- once again, the thralls would make sure of that- but it's better not to tempt fate.

But it turned out that I was too late to avoid tempting fate. She'd already given in to temptation.

The thralls had been on the lookout for people in white, not neon orange or teal. They'd thought nothing of the two humans, one dark-haired and overweight, one a lean redhead, who leapt from an odd-looking vehicle with odder-looking weapons. Not Whitecoats, not their problem.

In a moment of pure slapstick comedy, I slammed into Jack's belly and bounced backward, much like the agents had done mere minutes ago (except that I didn't fall on my butt).

For an infinite moment, we just stood there, stunned. Then hatred- pure, unadulterated, undeniable hatred- crossed my former parents' faces.

"_You,_" hissed Maddie, and drew her gun.

* * *

><p>... And this, dear friends, is how an idiot-proof plan can still go wrong. It's also proof that Danny <em>really<em> needs to get better at bossing his thralls around.

Poll is still up for those of you who haven't voted.

Happy New Year!

-Corona


	16. Daughter's Choice

It turns out that Tucker is a pretty talented cameraman. No one was surprised- he's good with all other species of tech, so why shouldn't he have a deft hand with the camera?

The footage of me (both mes) and the Guys in White was a pretty good example of that fact. But the most telling sign of his talent was how perfectly he captured those first few seconds when I encountered Jack and Maddie.

Even now, I sometimes dig out the DVD to watch the few seconds where my former parents and I just stared at each other in stunned disbelief. It's as though I'm hoping for things to turn out differently… but they never do. For a brief moment, my face bears an expression that was downright painful: part desperation, part hope, part dread. Then something in the Fentons' eyes changes, and my face falls. My shoulders square, though. I acknowledge them as my enemies, just as they do to me.

"_You,_" Maddie snarls, and I turn off the tape.

Of course, then and there I didn't have the option of turning off the tape. Only Clockwork can stop time, and I'm not Clockwork.

The blast caught me right in the gut. Normally I could have dodged, but shock had slowed me, made me vulnerable.

But I've had lots of experience getting hurt, so the shot didn't incapacitate me.

The thralls stiffened, prepared to attack. A sudden horrible thought struck me: what would happen if the ghosts found out about Pariah _now _rather than later? Clockwork hadn't said. He'd simply recommended that we wait until Halloween.

When the omniscient Master of All Time makes a suggestion, smart people listen.

"Billy Bob, stand down!" I yelled, rolling aside. "Billy Bob, you and everyone else _stand down!_"

Jack stampeded into the restaurant, brandishing a horrifyingly huge ecto-cannon. I was still flat on my back and in human form. He must have thought I was helpless.

News flash: Danny Fenton-Phantom is_ never_ helpless.

I rolled aside, just barely avoiding him, and hooked my leg around his ankle. He fell, knocking over three or four tables.

Unfortunately, he was the weaker of the two hunters. Maddie was a better shot, a better fighter, a better tactician. Besides, Jack wouldn't stay down for long?

Or would he? My eyes flickered towards the captive Whitecoats. That goo was pretty sticky. If I could just get them to-

No time to plan, only to act. Maddie, ignoring everyone around us, was firing as quickly as she could. I danced between shots, inhumanly fast. Hopefully the witnesses would chalk it up to adrenaline instead of superpowers.

Occam's razor, folks. Works every time.

Danni was hovering, invisible to humans but not to ghosts, uncertain of what to do. She was smart enough to realize that our plans had changed, that I didn't want visible help. Then her eyes narrowed. She swooped down, into Jack's body. The hunter collapsed, unconscious. Or maybe just sleeping- I could hear his snores.

My sister spun, reached an intangible hand into Maddie's ecto-gun. She tugged, and the gun was destroyed.

By this time, pretty much everyone except Tucker had come to their senses and abandoned the Nasty Burger. That was good enough for me. I ducked under a table- then realized that the camera was still on. Fighting back a curse, I sprinted for the back exit. The second I was out of sight, I went ghost.

Danni and a small army of (thankfully completely invisible) thralls flew after me. "Don't wait for Tucker," she said tensely. "He said he'll meet us at his parents' house."

I nodded.

We flew into the Foleys' house. Tucker's parents and the four Mansons were waiting for us.

"Hi," I mumbled, returning to visibility.

Four of the six humans nearly jumped out of their skins. Only Sam's grandmother Ida and Sam herself, who was used to my randomly materializing from midair, remained unmoved. "Nice to see you again, Danny."

I smiled, shifted back to human form. "You too, ma'am. Sorry about all this."

Danni elbowed me. I started. "Sorry. Everyone, this is my sister Danielle Fenton-Phantom. Danni, these are Jeremy, Pamela, and Ida Manson and Lola and Maurice Foley."

She shifted back too before offering her hand to Ida. They shook, murmuring those insignificant pleasantries, before my sister went on to shake with the other Mrs. Manson.

"Where's our son?" Lola demanded. Her gaze fixated on the window.

Danni held up a placating hand. "We had some signals that we decided on earlier. He gave me the sign not to wait for him. He's on his way."

I took over. "We were at the Nasty Burger. That's only about eight, ten minutes away. And he's probably jogging, so he'll be here any minute now."

"He's all right, isn't he?"

My twin and I instantly assured her that Tucker was fine, perfectly fine, that Billy Bob and his buddies would take care of him.

Maurice closed his eyes. I could practically hear him silently counting to ten. "Who is Billy Bob and why is he taking care of our son?"

Cue awkward silence.

None of the adult humans knew that Danni's and my father was Pariah Dark, who in Amity Park was known as "That Scary Guy With the Skeleton Army Who Dragged us into Another Dimension." It wasn't that we'd deliberately kept that back, we just hadn't gotten that far. Besides, the Mansons especially needed some more time to digest what we'd already told them.

Maybe, I thought, meeting Sam's eyes, maybe my wonderful and thoughtful girlfriend managed to explain the whole soul merge thing while Danni and I were at the Nasty Burger. Maybe the adults had already freaked out over- ah crap. Sam was shaking her head; the other humans had no idea.

Danni and I started babbling, talking right on top of each other.

"Billy Bob isn't really his name, it's just what Tucker calls him-"

"Don't worry about Billy Bob, he's a thrall and they-"

"-not sure why he chose the name Billy Bob, but hey. That's Tucker for you-"

"-besides, Danny and I would know if something went wrong-"

"QUIET!" Ida roared. Danni and I fell silent, gawking at the normally soft-spoken old lady. She had a voice like a drill sergeant. "Danny- boy Danny- would you like to explain who this Billy Bob person is?"

"Not really," I muttered. Ida's gaze sharpened. "Of course, that doesn't mean I won't. It's just complicated. The really, really short version is that Billy Bob is one of our biological father's servants. Well, sort of. He's a thrall, which means he's bound to Pariah's- that's our father; I'm still not used to actually calling him 'Father'- will on a metaphysical level."

Jeremy and Pamela were doing some very nice fish-out-of-water impressions. Maurice Foley rubbed his temples. Lola's right eye twitched. Even Ida seemed surprised.

That was when Tucker saved us all by bursting through the front door, tape in hand. "Mission accomplished, guys!"

Lola and Maurice snapped out of their shock (or perhaps horror). "TUCKER!" they shrieked. The two parents moved so quickly that they seemed a blur. Then the three Foleys collided, laughing and hugging and babbling.

It took several minutes to get settled down, at which point we decided to show the video. Tucker plugged his PDA into the family TV.

The whole fight lasted less than six minutes. By the time it had finished, everyone had fallen silent.

Sam was the first to speak. "They _attacked_ you? Your foster-parents _attacked_ you?" Except for two vivid spots of color on her cheeks, her face was white with rage. "Those- those-" She slammed her fists together. "You should've let Pariah squish them."

"That's their dad's name," Tucker explained, not realizing we'd already been over this.

"They know that," I told him. Then, before anyone could remember our earlier conversation and ask to meet Billy Bob, I added, "Can you edit that out before giving it to the media?"

The techno-geek didn't answer.

"Tucker?" I repeated.

"I could, yeah…."

"Then do it. Please. I think that there's still a chance for them."

Sam pulled me close. "It wouldn't make any difference," she told me quietly. "How many people witnessed this? And it's not like your parents are unknowns- everyone in town can recognize Jack and Maddie Fenton."

I shook my head, mute, wanting nothing more than to deny it. But I couldn't.

* * *

><p>The meeting adjourned pretty quickly after that. I mean, there wasn't a whole lot any of us could do.<p>

That, and I really didn't want to explain Billy Bob and the thralls quite yet.

But whenever I get out of the frying pan, it's only because I'm heading into the fire. I might not have to explain the whole king-Djall-soul-merge-prince thing yet… but I did have to look Jazz in the eye and tell her that my actions had doomed her parents.

She knew something was wrong the second I entered the room where she and Pariah had spent most of the day. She trailed off, abandoning her explanation of Marxism to ask, "What happened?"

Pariah met my eyes. A silent question passed between us. I shook my head, frowned, shook it again. He inclined his own head, sank deeper into his chair. He would learn of this eventually, so he might as well learn it now.

"Good news first: the plan worked. Two agents attacked me without provocation in front of dozens of witnesses. And once people start digging, they'll find that the Whitecoats have abused their power tons of times. The Guys in White are pretty much doomed."

"What's the bad news?" An awful suspicion grew on her face. She blanched, trying to deny it. "Danny, what happened?"

"It's my fault," I said quietly. Hot shame welled up in me, shame and guilt and misery. Jazz had done so much for me. She'd saved my life, bandaged my wounds, lied through gritted teeth to keep my secret safe. She'd done all that and more- and look how I've repaid her. "I only told the thralls to watch out for people in white. If I'd been smarter, told them to keep people in teal and orange away…." My voice broke. "I'm sorry, Jazz, so sorry, but…. Jack and Maddie showed up right as I was about to leave. They… weren't happy to see me."

Dead silence. I couldn't look at my sister. Instead, I sought out my father's gaze. His face was soft, sympathetic.

"No," Jazz whimpered, a tiny broken moan.

"I'm sorry." It was so inadequate, so pathetic- but what else could I say? Only a monster wouldn't be sorry at her pain. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Why?" she hiccupped. "It was my plan. My plan, Danny." Her shoulders heaved. "I should have-"

"Should have what?" I demanded. "What were the odds that Jack and Maddie would walk into the Nasty Burger the second I was finished? The best-laid plans go wrong sometimes, Jazz, and yours was the best-laid plan I've ever seen. It's not your fault."

"Not yours, either."

I wasn't so sure about that, but the thought seemed to make her feel better, so I let it pass. Arguing wouldn't help either of us. "I swear, Jazz, I'll do everything in my power to-"

"No." Now it was her turn to look away. "No, Danny, don't promise that."

"Why not?"

"Because I know you'll keep your promise. And… Danny, I _want_ you to get them out. I want it more than anything else in the world. But- but I don't think it'd be _right_." She wiped away a tear. "I hate this, Danny, and I hate asking, but… please don't. Let them… let them go to jail."

At this point, she lost control completely. With a strangled sob, she buried her head in her hands. Tears leaked from between her fingers as she rocked herself back and forth, back and forth.

I couldn't believe it. Jazz was willingly letting her parents- no, she couldn't be. But she _was_.

I did the only thing I could do: wrap her in a hug, murmuring nonsense lies like "it's going to be okay."

Finally, after I don't know how long, Jazz's sobs subsided into soft whimpers. A thrall, doubtless summoned by Pariah, handed her a tissue. She sniffled, blew her nose with a loud honking noise. That made her chuckle softly as she dabbed at her eyes.

Time to speak up. "Jazz," I said, very gently, "why don't you want me to… to do everything in my power to keep them out of jail?"

She took a fresh tissue, wiped at her reddened face. "Danny," she replied, just as gentle as I was trying to be, "when you found out that Pariah was your father but before you knew about Djall, what did you plan to do?"

She knew this already, but I humored her. "I was going to let him stay in the Sarcophagus- no offense, Father." (Only later did I realize that I'd called him Father without thinking about it. Crises really do bring families together)

"None taken, Daniel," he replied quietly. "Even if that _had_ been me alone, our kinship would not excuse you letting me run free."

"Oh," I whispered, finally understanding. "Oh, _Jazz…."_

"I know," she rasped, almost ready to cry again. "But… it's for the best. They have to grow up sometime. They have to learn that their behavior is wrong. They have to- oh, Danny, you must think that I'm a monster."

I grabbed her by the shoulder. My hand gripped her chin, forced her to meet my gaze. "You're not a monster, Jazz. _Never _say that. You're right. I hate to say it, but you're right. They _do_ have to learn." I wiped a tear from her eye. It dropped to the floor, glistening like crystal. "You're doing the right thing, regardless of how much it hurts you." A sad, sad smile. "And that makes you a hero."

* * *

><p>Poor, poor Jazz... but she's making the right choice. Jack and Maddie have ignored the consequences of their actions for far too long, but they have to face them sometime. But of course, that doesn't make it any easier for her. Or Danny, for that matter.<p>

Poll is still up. The HP crossover is winning.

-Corona


	17. A Deal with the Devil

Sam and Tucker, bless them both, understood Jazz's decision perfectly. They were also wise enough to understand her pain.

Approximately five seconds after we'd finished telling our friends about Jazz's choice, Danni and Clockwork teleported into the middle of the room.

For the first time, Jazz seemed uncertain. Face awash with pain, she met Clockwork's gaze and whispered, "Am I doing the right thing?"

He nodded, just as sad as she. For the first time, I realized that whenever Jazz was around, Clockwork didn't age-shift. The implications took my breath away.

But good for Jazz, I thought. She could use… love… wherever she finds it. Guess I'll just have to set Tucker up with Danni instead.

"Let's get out of here," the twin in question muttered, grabbing the aforementioned techno-geek and me by the arm. Sam followed, leaving Jazz and Clockwork alone.

"How long has _that_ been going on?" I asked. A few days, at least- I could remember how Clockwork had comforted her when she'd first come- but had no idea how long I'd missed this.

"You noticed?" Danni knew what I was talking about, of course. I was the clueless one, not her.

"It's about time," Tucker grumbled. "How much do I owe you, Sam?"

"Thirty bucks."

He forked over the money without any further comment.

I couldn't hear the conversation between my sister and my friend, but I knew what they were talking about. Clockwork was volunteering to turn back time, to keep Jack and Maddie from entering the Nasty Burger. He knew that Jazz was doing the right thing, but he also knew how much pain it caused her, and he couldn't stand it. Then, after Jazz had refused (as he knew she would), they would talk about the consequences of her choice, the best way to rehabilitate her parents.

Assuming it was even possible.

* * *

><p>It was strange, watching events roll by from my safe haven in the Ghost Zone. I was used to being in the center of things, not sitting back and letting others work for me.<p>

Tucker's footage aired all over the nation that night. Pamela's friends in CNN had outdone themselves, passing the video on to their colleagues in other national news stations. They'd even sent copies overseas, to Britain and France and other American allies.

The results were predictable.

No one had ever liked the Guys in White (save for the Whitecoats themselves and deranged ghost hunters like the Fentons). They caused more property damage than most ghosts, but they weren't accountable for it. They were snobs, bossing around civilians like we were too stupid to know anything. Half the time their weapons malfunctioned or misfired, causing injuries in the people they were supposed to protect. Incontrovertible proof that they had no qualms about attacking innocent civilians was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Led by the Mansons and the Foleys, Amity Park (and other cities throughout the country) went absolutely berserk. Protests sprouted like mushrooms after rain, dotting the lawns of every governmental building from Juneau to Key West. Every protester spoke with the same voice: Down with the Guys in White!

But every legal case has its unexpected plot twists. In a statement from the president himself, White House spokesmen revealed that _America didn't own the Whitecoats anymore._ They'd sold the organization three years ago to none other than Vlad Masters, mayor of Amity Park.

No one had known that, not even members of Team Phantom. Vlad had kept it well-hidden, not wanting anyone (particularly his teenage nemesis) to know that he had his own personal army of ghost hunters. Incompetent ghost hunters, yes, but still well-armed. And I think that part of it had to do with the time I tricked the Whitecoats into destroying his shiny new mansion. He probably didn't want to experience a repeat of that.

Whatever the reason, that bit of news set off another round of protests- this time against Vlad, who provided a wonderfully evil-looking scapegoat for the public's ire.

That, of course, opened a whole new can of worms. People (funded by Sam's filthy-rich parents and guided by Tucker's, who I think are somehow related to Sherlock Holmes and/or Batman) started investigating into all Vlad's companies. Companies which he acquired through overshadowing, blackmail, bribery, and other morally questionable activities.

We hadn't even thought about Vlad while constructing and perfecting the plan, but we _still_ managed to screw him. How awesome is that?

But wonderful as it was to watch Vlad squirm (and oh, it was wonderful), that couldn't quite make up for the horror of watching two other media villains: Jack and Maddie Fenton.

The Guys in White were portrayed as incompetent psychopaths. Vlad was shown as the cold-hearted, ruthless robber baron he was. The Fentons, who had shot at their own child, were portrayed as the worst kind of monsters imaginable.

Part of that was due to Tucker's skill with a camera and my face's expressiveness. Body language experts took apart my every facial tic, every change in my posture. They claimed that the desperate, poignant hope on my face, followed by the miserable but determined squaring of my shoulders, implied that I'd been abused before.

But, in accordance with the American justice system, even the worst monsters are allowed their lawyers. Vlad had a vested interest in protecting both himself and his Whitecoat minions, so he hired the best attorneys he could bribe. Jack and Maddie, though, had no such option. The state appointed someone for them, a young Hispanic woman named Antonia Shapiro.

The second Danni (who had been keeping an eye on the news for us) heard that the Fentons had a lawyer, she grabbed her two siblings and dragged us to the human world.

Jack, Maddie, and Shapiro were meeting in a private room. Maddie was in handcuffs; her husband wore an enormous straightjacket. Shapiro was going on about how their best chance of getting a reduced sentence was by pleading insanity ("Not that I think you're gibbering lunatics, of course," she'd hastened to lie).

Danni rolled her eyes as she slid into visibility. Jack strained at his straightjacket, shrieking about ghosts, as my sister slipped into Shapiro's body.

I flashed into human form. Jack froze for a second, surprised by the sudden appearance of his ex-son and daughter, before attempting to body-slam us against the wall.

My twin was not impressed. She shot a strand of goop, the same kind I'd used on the Guys in White. Jack doubled back, nearly squashing Maddie. She had been attempting to destroy her handcuffs.

"We're here to talk," Jazz announced, trying to look peaceable. "That's all."

"We'll never talk to you!" Jack roared, ignoring the fact that he kind of was. "Traitors and ghosts!"

My sister flinched. I flinched too, suddenly regretting bringing her here.

Maddie saw her side's advantage. "How could you side with them?" she demanded.

Danni stalked towards her. "She sides with us because it's the right thing to do- something you know nothing about. Now. Are you going to shut up and listen of your own volition, or do I have to shut you up myself?"

Jack answered her question by attempting to head-butt her. Danni easily sidestepped the pathetic attack. Half a second later, both humans were glued to the ground, their mouths sealed shut.

We'd decided to pull a good-cop, bad-cop routine. Danni was the bad cop. In a low, deadly voice, she announced, "We know what you're planning to do. You want to reveal that Danny is half-ghost by showing the records for Project A.N.I.E.L. You obviously don't realize that human experimentation is kind of illegal, and that confessing your involvement in the project would guarantee a life sentence."

Maddie tried to say something, but it was muffled by the gag.

"Your Whitecoat friends told you to do that, didn't they," I commented lightly. "That's because news that you created two ghost hybrids- yes, two, my sister didn't really melt- will screw the two of you but absolve them. They've sold you out.

"In other words, it only benefits them if you tell about Project A.N.I.E.L. You'd still be screwed. But if you don't tell about the project…. You're not going to escape, but you'll probably have a chance of parole."

Danni's turn again. "And even if you were stupid enough to tell about the project, you wouldn't have any proof. Tucker's had access to your computer system for years. He's already deleted every single reference to A.N.I.E.L. He's even made a few fake journal entries about you 'adopting' Danny after finding him on the doorstep."

Jack made a noise that sounded vaguely like "Oo a'oo adf!"

"Oh, Tucker is more than capable of doing that. And he did." She leaned back in the lawyer's chair, smug and triumphant.

"What we're saying is that you have no leg to stand on. If you chose to blab about the project, at best they'd think you're crazy and at worst they'd decide you've been abusing Danny for years, him being a half-ghost experiment and everything. You have no way of proving that he's half-ghost. You can't even claim he's Phantom, because Phantom saved Fenton. You've seen that clip, right? Thought so."

"Believe it or not, we're here to help you," I said. "You guys want to get off light, and revealing that you experimented on two human babies isn't going to help with that. We don't want the world to know that there are half-ghosts." I leaned forward, my gaze boring into theirs. "Because if the world knows that it's possible to create ghost hybrids, they will make more. They might even turn themselves into half-breeds."

Horror rendered them silent. I could almost see the nightmare in their minds: _more _abominations, more things somewhere between human and ghost- but mostly ghost, at least in heart. Ghosts who could get past ghost shields. Ghosts who could fool them, the self-proclaimed greatest hunters in the world, into believing that they were harmless human teenagers for over three years.

This had been Jazz's idea, letting their hate of ghosts keep them quiet. This time, her plan worked without a flaw.

I took off their goopy gags. "What's the decision?"

The hatred in Maddie's eyes, in Jack's normally goofy face, made me cringe inside. But I didn't show it, not to them.

"He asked for your decision," Danni reminded them. "We're on a schedule, here."

Wife looked at husband. Husband looked at wife. Both partners' shoulders slumped, the closest they've ever come to admitting defeat. "We'll keep quiet," Jack growled.

"For _now,_" Maddie added darkly. She attempted to make a threatening gesture. The attempt failed, mostly because the rest of her was covered in goop.

"Thank you," I said, very quietly.

"It's not for _you,_ you disgusting protoplasmic scum. It's because we don't want your kind multiplying. That's all."

"…Yeah. I know."

* * *

><p>I'd been trying to stay out of the court proceedings whenever possible, but I was still pretty central to the trials. As a result, I was kind of obligated to stay involved.<p>

This was especially true as Agent L had somehow escaped, and we needed to keep the public interested in finding him. Clockwork could find him in a heartbeat, but the poor guy was busy enough already. Besides, being captured by a ghost would only enhance L's feelings of I'm-a-martyr-for-my-cause-I-rock. Being captured by humans might show him that he was wrong.

Well, maybe.

Most of my involvement (besides getting shot at on international television) involved emailing statements to the press about how I was a frightened little boy living in terror of the Guys in White, so please find L and destroy him and his buddies so I can come home. A typical statement went like this:

_Thank you oh so much for your wonderful diligence and hard work. I'm so happy that you're destroying the awful bad guys who tried to hurt me, an innocent, for no reason whatsoever. Have I mentioned that Agent L, the person who my parents invited to live in the guest bedroom (which is right next to MY bedroom, where I sleep), made threatening gestures that I took as a death threat? Or that my parents' version of good dinner conversation involves how they want to torture my hero Phantom into insanity before destroying him utterly? I found the experience psychologically traumatizing but was too afraid to speak out against it. Oh, how glad I am that you are ensuring my safety! _

There are two sad things about that: one, the wording is only a slight exaggeration of the crap I was actually writing. Two, except for me saying that they'd attacked me for no reason whatsoever, I hadn't spoken a single lie.

Fortunately, these gushing statements were all the evidence I had to provide. Pretty much everyone in Pariah's Keep was occupied with more important things, like creating our scripts, editing our scripts, teaching the Man himself about the joys of modern life, learning from the Man himself about etiquette and politics and other awful things, and (this was my favorite. No, that wasn't sarcasm, it really was my favorite, if only because I've had problems with the Observants' Code for years) rewriting the law to make it more just, practical, and sane.

The new Law was based off the rules of Pariah's original reign, though we'd had to modify them slightly to account for the fact that it hadn't been the Golden Age for a long time. That meant trashing a bunch of laws that made no sense, simplifying things a great deal. Now, instead of there being five or six contradictory regulations about, say, entering the Human World, there was only one.

The Roman emperor Tacitus once commented, "The more corruption, the more laws." Or something to that effect- he wasn't exactly speaking English when he said it. My point is, there were a lot fewer laws now (or there would be, when this went official on Halloween), so hopefully there'd be less corruption. Or maybe that would just be because the Observants were getting fired then.

Time flies when you're busy, and we were certainly busy. Soon- much sooner than I'd expected- it was Halloween. The day of reckoning.

* * *

><p>Filler chapter is filler. Nuff said.<p>

How many chapters ago was it that I said that there wouldn't be any explicit Timely Intelligence? Yeah... not planned, but that was the only way to make this work out. I need to stop promising stuff.

Poll is still up. The Harry Potter one is still winning, so here are some spoilers: Danny will NOT like the Golden Trio. In fact, I'm pretty sure he will hate their guts. Which is really their own fault, because kidnapping his owl really wasn't necessary.

On another note, I'm taking suggestions for the next book's title and for a title for this series. How does _Monster or Monarch?_ sound for book 3? As for the series title, someone (you know who you are) pointed out that Shadow Prince Chronicles was kind of spoiler-y. Any ideas are welcome.

-Corona


	18. Day of Reckoning

"Do you guys have stage fright? Because I have stage fright. _Lots _of stage fright."

"Stage fright?" asked Pariah, glancing at Jazz. She had become his go-to girl for all aspects of modern life. In other words, a dictionary.

"It's a fear of appearing in front of large numbers of people. We call it stage fright because it's commonly associated with actors when they go onto the stage and forget their lines."

"But we're not going to forget our lines," Danni assured herself. "At least, Danny isn't. Clarisse says she's heard him reciting his speech in his sleep." (Clarisse was another of the thralls. Tucker likes naming things- just look at his PDAs- and he'd gone on a naming binge when he discovered that the thralls didn't have any. Billy Bob was only the beginning.) "But I haven't been talking in my sleep. I think."

Our father nodded his thanks at Jazz before turning to his children, both of whom were nervous wrecks. "I had that too, my first few speeches. Don't worry. It fades eventually."

"Define 'eventually,'" I muttered.

He just chuckled, clearly not appreciating my stark terror.

_Pull yourself together, Fenton-Phantom,_ I ordered myself. _You've fought hundreds of evil ghosts and dozens of evil humans. You were a lord in four kingdoms even before this whole Pariah thing, and now you're the freaking Shadow Prince of the entire Ghost Zone. _And _you asked Sam to be your girlfriend before you knew if she liked you back. You can do this. _

"Try going through the plan," Clockwork suggested.

"It's basic psychology," Jazz agreed. "It's reassuring, if nothing else."

Looking at them, so close and yet so far, made my heart ache. In a long and rather awkward conversation just days ago, my sister had told me that she and Clockwork had made their decision long ago: between the age-shifting, age differences, species differences, and the fact that he was bound to the Observants (not true anymore, but the other three still were), they didn't stand a chance. Therefore, friendship was all they could- and would- offer each other.

In a way, that relieved me. I did _not need_ more overly complicated relationships right now, thank you very much.

On the other hand... that didn't make it any less sad.

Clockwork-friend here, young master, Ammut announced. The Devourer, feared by most of the Ghost Zone, dreaded by the mortals of Khemet, the chimera who could destroy spirits on the most complete level possible… had dressed up in a pink bow for the occasion. A wide, loopy, pastel-pink bow that made her impossible to take seriously. That, of course, was the point. Jazz had come up with the bow idea, reasoning that when people saw Pariah Dark's pet demon-beast (their words, not ours) done up like a toy poodle, they'd start to take his rehabilitation seriously. Ammut, for her part, was quite fond of the ribbon.

….Yes, I know that my half-life is completely and utterly insane. I wouldn't have it any other way. Most of the time.

"What about Clockwork?" I asked her.

You say, need ask Clockwork-friend scary sees-lady. You say, maybe know scary sees-lady because sees-powers. You no ask yet. Ammut remind young master ask. 

As always, it took a few seconds to decipher that. Then, after patting her on the head, I turned to Clockwork and commented, "Ammut says she spent so much time in the Human World because a 'scary sees-lady' told her to search there. I figure, she's scary, you're scary, you might know each other."

Witty banter: the world's greatest defense mechanism. Without it, I'd have dissolved into a quivering puddle of goo long, long ago.

Clockwork let my comment slide. "I see. Why exactly did she obey this 'scary sees-lady'? What were her qualifications?"

Delphi lady. Delphi sees. You see. You Delphi? 

"She says the scary sees-lady was the Oracle of Delphi. And she wants to know if you have any connections to Delphi."

"I do," he acknowledged. "One of the Oracles, Castalia- who I suspect is the Oracle she encountered- was my mother."

"I thought they weren't supposed to have kids?"

"They weren't."

Something in his voice made me want to change the subject. There was definitely a long and probably painful backstory there. "Oh. Yeah. Okay. Um, how much longer?"

Clockwork arched a brow. "Do you want the exact time, or just an approximation?"

"Just an approximation, please and thank you."

"All right then. Two minutes. One minute less than the last time you asked."

I gulped, straightened my tie. "Oh. Thanks."

"You'll be fine, youngling," he assured me. "As will you, Danni."

She forced a smile. "Is that a prediction or just a reassurance?"

"Why can't it be both?"

"Let's move into position," Pariah directed. He glanced at the unfortunate Observant who had been drafted for this particular job. "You are first. _Don't mess up._"

The eyeball gulped, swallowed. "Y-yes, Your Majesty. I mean, no, Your Majesty." It scurried to its place in front of the camera, on the banks of the River Styx. The River of Vows.

By the Five Rivers, this was actually happening. In sixty short seconds, the cameras would roll, and I'd go public as the son of Pariah Dark.

The rest of us- me, my sisters and father, Sam, Clockwork, and a few other Observants- made sure we were behind the camera's line of sight. "Can you see us?" Danni asked Tucker, our cameraman.

"Nope," he replied cheerily. "Just Mr. Eyeball over there."

"…I'm a woman." Even terrified, the Observant managed to inject some irritation into her voice.

"Sorry, Ms. Eyeball." He glanced at his wristwatch. "And we're rolling in five, four, three, two… _one._"

When we set the date for the big reveal, the Observants had begun advertising that they had some big, important news about Pariah Dark that they would be sharing with the world on Halloween. By now, every ghost in the Ghost Zone (and the ones who had fled to Earth) knew to tune into channel 31 at 6 PM Greenwich time.

The Observants are many things, but no one ever accused them of being bad actors. This one seemed calm, cool, poised, nothing at all like the terrified wreck she'd been a few minutes ago. Eye impassive, she floated over to the river in the background, dipped her hand in the water. The fluid hissed softly as it penetrated her skin, entering her bloodstream.

"By blood and bone and name I swear. Thus I bind myself, by name and bone and blood, to speak the truth this night. On the Stygian waters I make my vow, to tell the true story of Pariah Dark, King of All Ghosts."

I imagined how the audience was reacting. They were probably leaning forward in their seats, murmuring questions. We know the story of Pariah, they were saying, that's why we're so terrified. Skip to the part where you reveal your plan for locking him away.

"At the end of the Golden Age, a criminal named Djall was brought before the High King…." She spent over a minute describing his crimes, painting a picture of the awful man he was. I hadn't known half of what Djall had done before merging with Pariah. Now that I knew, I found myself wishing that the Observant had skipped this part. My father had been stuck in a soul merge with _that?_

"His punishment was to be fed to Ammut, the Devourer of Souls. In those days, it was the king's custom to watch every execution- not out of sadism, but to remind himself of the costs of the crown. That day, as he watched, something went wrong. The tattered, twisted remnants of Djall's soul- the very dregs of his spirit, the worst and most tenacious components of his personality- escaped the Devourer's fangs. It fled to the nearest spirit in the room- Pariah Dark.

"Djall's evil had been concentrated; all the weak parts of his mind had already been destroyed. He suppressed the king's true personality, implanting his own in its place.

"And so began the War of Power."

The Observant paused here. It cast a silent plea towards Pariah, asking permission to change the plan at the last moment. My father shook his head. _No. Continue with the script. _

She flinched, but obeyed.

"The Ancients informed us almost immediately what had happened, but…. We did not react in the way we should have."

I fought back a snort. Understatement of the _millennium,_ lady.

"We saw a chance to claim power for ourselves." The Observant's voice was filled with agony. Whether that pain was regret over their choice or regret that they'd been busted, I couldn't tell. "And so, instead of freeing our king- we had the ability to; he had given us control of the Ancients, and we are not without our own powers- we let the war continue."

I imagined the scene: ghosts gathered around a television, white-faced with shock and horror. But also, glimmering faintly amongst the numbness, a tiny golden kernel of hope. Why would the Observants say this unless…?

"You know the rest: our king, along with Djall, was sealed in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. We Observants took control as the heroes of the War of Power. This continued for three thousand years, until Pariah's son and daughter freed their father from Djall's bondage."

I could almost hear the stunned gasping of the audience. Son and daughter? they repeated incredulously. What in all the worlds...?

The Observant floated away. Clockwork took her place. He placed his hand on the Stygian waters and repeated the other ghost's oath. "By blood and bone and name I swear…."

Despite being the legendary Master of All Time, Clockwork doesn't often appear on television. Or on the radio. Or in public. But that didn't make him any less recognizable or trustworthy. People knew him, knew he had the best interests of the timeline at heart.

"At the Battle of Mal'observem'ul'a, the Council Chamber was empty save for a vat of Pariah's blood…." He told them how a woman (he didn't mention that she was human, as that would have clued too many people in too soon) had come through a natural portal and stolen some of the blood for experimentation purposes, not knowing to whom it belonged.

"For seventeen years, neither of the twins knew the truth of their origins. Then, just under a month ago, the prince discovered that he shared no blood with those who had raised him. Soon he, his twin, and their trusted friends had discovered his father's identity.

"The prince knew nothing of Djall. He thought that his sire was a monster. With that in mind, he and his twin resolved to ignore their supposedly monstrous heritage.

"But now that they knew their father's name, faithful Ammut, who had never forgotten her master's dual imprisonments, was able to find them. Through the link of blood they share, she told them what had truly happened at the end of the Golden Age. Naturally, the prince and princess were suspicious, so they came to me.

"My sight could not extend that far into the past, but I could and did look into the future to see what would happen if Pariah were loosed once more. I looked, and saw Djall's destruction… and its aftermath, when the Age of Gold began anew."

His eyes shone with joy he could not suppress. Whatever he'd seen, it had been good.

"And so, at great risk to themselves and their reputations, the royal twins went to free their father from both the Sarcophagus and Djall. And they succeeded."

He fell silent. Tucker pressed buttons, flipped switches. "Okay. It's on."

A picture was worth a thousand words. Following that logic, footage of my second battle against the soul merge (with help from Danni and Jazz and Clockwork, of course) had to be worth more than the entire encyclopedia. That, and it provided evidence that we weren't making Djall up as a convenient plot device or something.

Obviously, there hadn't been camera crews filming us as we opened the Sarcophagus and tried to kill each other. This was where Clockwork came in. As the Master of All Time, he could view pretty much anything he wanted on a big computer-like screen. That big computer-like screen just so happened to be compatible with human recording technology. All he'd had to do was transfer images from our battle onto a DVD, and he could easily show it (or have Tucker show it. Same difference, in this case) to the entire Ghost Zone.

The knowledge that one of my secrets was currently being projected on dimension-wide television left me paralyzed. I've guarded my secrets- not this one, obviously, but many others- for so long that the thought of deliberately, knowingly, willingly telling people on such an epic scale….

"Daniel." Pariah touched my shoulder. I started, close to panic.

_Calm down, Fenton-Phantom. You're being stupid. You've thought this through, and you're doing it on purpose. It's not going to, like, rear up and attack you. So chill. You will be FINE. _

"Daniel," he repeated. "It's time for us to go onscreen."

"Huh?" was my oh-so-intelligent response. "Oh. Gotcha. Yeah. _Yeah._" I floated in front of the camera, taking up position with my father, my sister, and Ammut. We'd invited Jazz to come too, as she was my and Danni's sister and the semi-official shrink to the Ghost Zone's Royal Family, but she'd declined. She'd said that this was our moment, not hers, and that she had no intention of stealing our limelight.

"You wouldn't be stealing our limelight," Danni had pointed out. "You'd be a human shield."

Jazz had arched a brow, unable to hide her grin. "And that's supposed to make me want to go on camera with you? Your persuasion skills need some work, little sister."

"How much longer, Tuck?" I rasped.

"Three minutes. You okay, man? You look ready to puke."

"Gee, thanks."

"Well, you _do._"

"I'll be fine. How much longer?"

"Two minutes, thirty seconds. Are you going to keep asking that at thirty-second intervals?"

"Maybe." I fidgeted.

"Knock it off, Danny," Danni ordered. "You're making me nervous."

"_I'm _making you nervous? You're already scared to death!"

"Well, you're not helping!"

"Both of you knock it off," Jazz ordered. "You'll be fine, I promise. And I'm like Danny- I keep my promises."

I almost mentioned that she couldn't exactly control the future of the Ghost Zone like I could control Dan's future (mostly by preventing it from existing), but Clockwork caught my eye as I was opening my mouth. My jaw clicked shut.

"She's right, you know," Pariah assured us. "You two are strong and brave and beloved by all my people. You will make wonderful royalty."

"Thank you, Father," Danni whispered.

"Thirty seconds," Tucker called.

My mask snapped on, obscuring all my fear and anxiety. Pariah squared his shoulders. Danni straightened, jaw set.

"Ten… nine… eight… seven…."

_Vlad's probably watching this. Think about the look on his face when he realizes that you and Danni are royalty. With a capital ROYALTY. _

"…six… five… four… three…."

_Maybe I can convince Clockwork to show me Vlad's expression. He MUST use those viewscreens for comedic purposes, otherwise he'd've lost his mind centuries ago. _

"…two… _one…_"

The camera clicked on, and the Ghost Zone- no, _both_ the worlds- were forever changed.

* * *

><p>FINISHED!<p>

Book 3 of _The A.N.I.E.L.__ Files_, tentatively titled _Monarch or Monster?,_ will explore exactly how both the worlds are forever changed. I'm planning to make an outline of it today. Any and all suggestions are welcome, as I have a minor case of writer's block and no idea what I'm doing. It won't be up for a few weeks- I want to write several chapters, just to make sure I can get the necessary revisions done before posting.

Thank you all for reading! You guys are what keeps me going.

-Corona


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